Boulevard of Broken Dreams
by bambiblake007
Summary: While Danny is preoccupied with the murder case of an up & coming movie star, & trying to sort out his feelings for Lindsay, who's hot & cold since her return, Mac has decided to transfer Abby Walker to NYC. IT'S COMPLETE!
1. Prologue

**Boulevard ****of ****Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

a lil back-story: _um, this is the prologue of story 1 in a series of CSI:NY related stories i've been working on for a while now. there is a bit of DL angst thrown in this one especially, cos the story is set after Lindsay returns from Montana. at that time, i wasn't 100 anti-DL, so i'll admit, the angst is definitely there. but like my other stories, this is NOT A DL LOVE STORY!! the story is actually a lil bit of CSI:NY & relation to CSI:Miami. my original character, ABBY WALKER, works under Horatio Caine in this story. she will eventually be transfering to New York to work under Mac Taylor._

summary: scene of the crime.

rating: M just to be on the safe side

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny or csi:miami or their characters, those would belong to Zuiker & company. somebody out there deserves a sparkly cape for developing the most complex character ever, Danny Messer. and whoever cast Carmine Giovinazzo in the part of Danny Messer, also deserves a sparkly cape & should be his/her side-kick!! oh, i don't own the song: "boulevard of broken dreams" this belongs to: green day. i used it for my title, tht's all. but i do own Abby Walker, she is my very own creation...from inside my head. insert evil laugher here.

author's note: all mistakes are mine. i take full responsibility. feedback is love :)

* * *

_**BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS**_

**--GREEN DAY**

vs. 1:

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me and I walk alone

I walk this empty street

On the boulevard of broken dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk a

chorus:

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Til then I walk alone

vs. 2:

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the borderline of the edge

And where I walk alone

Read between the lines of what's

Fucked up and everything's alright

Check my vital signs to know I'm still alive

And I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk alone

I walk a

chorus:

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Til then I walk alone

bridge:

I walk alone

I walk a

I walk this empty street

On the boulevard of broken dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one and I walk a

chorus:

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Til then I walk alone

* * *

**Prologue:**

Her head hurt.

It throbbed with such intense pain that it almost blinded her, but she continued to run. She wasn't going to stop, no matter how dizzy she felt; no matter how badly she wanted to throw up again, she was not giving up, because she knew there had to be someone out there that could help her. She was not giving up hope. Not now. Not after she had run so far to get away from her attacker. They were behind her, though. She could feel them close by. They were closing in on her and she knew this. She could hear their footsteps pounding behind her on the pavement.

She felt the wind blowing through her hair. Some of it was matted to her forehead, bloody. She felt the air as it brushed past her body, her aching body, and she knew she didn't have much more in her. She wanted so badly to just stop running. To just stop and catch her breath. The wind was cold against her face and it hurt when she breathed in through her nose and all of this was making it hard for her to breath. She smelled the Hudson River to her right. It smelled metallic to her. Odd, she had never thought that water could smell metallic before, but it did.

Her knees were hurting now. She felt some kind of pain shooting through them, like a charlie-horse. Her eyes closed as she winced from the sudden cold that was coursing through her body. She screamed out in obvious frustration. But no one was there to hear her cries. The street was deserted. This was odd, too, but then again, everything about this night had been somewhat odd, she supposed.

Her ears began to ring. She had already been hit in the back of the head, and she knew the ringing was from that. Someone had hit her from behind before she had even began to run. The attack had happened while she stood on the bridge, at the far end, staring out at the city lights. It had been such a beautiful sight to behold, at first. Then, she had laughed a bit and turned to her companions who were stoned out of their minds and laughing amongst themselves like they often did when they were feeling the thrill of a high, and bam! Everything had gone black for a moment. Nothing seemed real around her. One minute she had been care-free, staring over the railing, thinking about how cool it would be to just let herself go. Who knows, maybe she could fly. And the next minute, without any kind of warning, someone had hit her in the back of the head.

And it had not ended there. The attacker had dragged her over some gravel and held her down beneath his weight. It had to have been a man who was doing this, but she was slipping in and out of conciousness and she wasn't for sure anymore if her memory served her correctly or not. As the twinkling lights danced infront of her eyes, she thought she heard a man saying her name over and over into her ear. Did she know her attacker? And if not, how did he know her? It still amazed her when people recognized her, but she knew deep inside how this stranger knew her name. He had probably seen one of her movies. She groaned, feeling the pain seething through the back of her head. The warm blood was trickling down over her temple and into her mouth. It tasted salty, but bitter, with a hint of metallic mixed in for good measure. She did not hear her friends laughing or talking now. Everything was silent, except for the rush of the river over head.

She began to scream. The person on top of her smacked her and that shut her up. He had pushed his hand over her mouth. She tasted the inside of his hand, it tasted of dirt and kind of like fish. It made her stomach turn as she tasted the salt from his palm in her mouth, mingled with her own blood. He held her in position for a few moments, causing her to stop screaming almost suddenly, but he must of enjoyed the power he had over her. She had begun to whimper after a few moments, quietening herself down to a rattling sob as she did so, but no more screaming came from her. What was the use anyway? It didn't seem like anyone was around to hear her crying out for help.

The person on top of her had his way with her right on the gravel. Within moments, she felt him inside of her, but as the pain shot through her body with agonizing force from him, she didn't think about what was happening to her. Rather, she tried thinking pleasant thoughts.

She had thought about ice-cream on a hot New York day. She had thought about her old high school--homecoming with friends, football games, and cheerleading practice. She had thought about a nice boy she once knew, named Noah.

Noah had been a kid from her neighborhood with dreams of being a basketball star. He had been her first kiss, her first boyfriend, and her first time. She had loved him. And he had said that he loved her, too. He had promised to take her away from New York and that they would get married, but that day never came. He had gotten shot in a drive by, a drug deal gone wrong. She had never forgotten him. He was a good memory. She thought about Christmas and Thanksgiving. She thought about her parents, her siblings, and her neices and nephews. The tears came without her knowing it. She cried, but not because of what was happening to her, but because she knew she was never going to see the people she loved the most ever again.

After this horrible monster was done, he had stood up and she had heard the zipper. It made her stomach lurch forward and she felt the chunks rising. She vomitted and she got it all over the front of her dress. Afterwards, she had lay still for a moment, wondering if it was really over or not. She had been around enough to know that most likely, he was going to kill her. She had sniffled a few times as she lay in the damp grass and wondered where her friends were. What had happened to them? Why weren't they helping her? Had he done something terrible to them while she had been blacked out? She balled up her fists just thinking about her friends being hurt. Her finger nails dug into her palms. She hadn't noticed, though.

The person was standing over her again in a few moments. It was definately a man, but it was too dark to make out much more than his sillouette. She stared up at him and he chuckled, staring back down at her. She realized that he was lowering his body down toward her, ready for round two, no doubt, because he had left her sprawled out on the ground, her underwear gone. She had decided to take the opportunity of him being in his own sick, sadistic world to knee him in the crotch. He had groaned suddenly and fell backwards. She had stumbled up and turned to run back toward where she had been only moments earlier, but she had stumbled within only a few steps forward. And he was on her in a matter of seconds, like a cat. He had grabbed her ankles and began to pull her back to him, the gravel stabbing into her stomach and middle from were her dress had come up over her thighs. She had fought hard against him, crying out as she dug her finger nails into the dirt, determined to grasp for anything to help her. But there was nothing there, only twigs, rocks, and dirt.

He held her by the ankles and pulled with all of his might. He pinned her once more and smacked her over and over again, muttering that she had been a very naughty girl under his breath. She tasted the fresh blood oozing from her nose and mouth. She cried when she felt the pain hit her. It was full blast this time. He was being deliberate to hit her over and over because he wasn't playing this time--he wanted her to know he meant business. She gave up trying to fight him, she had only been able to get a couple blows in, anyways, and decided to take the beating. She rolled beneath him, shielding her face as best as she could. He stopped suddenly. He was breathing heavily above her, but he was not finished with what he had started. He thrust her legs apart once more.

He raped her again. This time, she felt everything. There was no way she could think about anything pleasant as he did what he did to her. She lay there, still and aware. It hurt so bad. She wanted to cry, but she was not about to give him the pleasure of seeing her cry. When he was done with her, he stood again and walked away, a few feet over toward some trees. She lay there, eyes closed tight. She smelled cigarette smoke then. It was definately coming from direction she was sure had walked toward. She inhaled a couple times, making sure that it was indeed cigarette smoke she was sensing, then opened her eyes to see what was happening. She didn't see him. He was not standing as close as she had assumed only moments before. He was no where in her peripheral vision. What kind of game was this? Where was he? Was he just lying in wait?

She set up, feeling the pain as it hit her with so much force, she almost passed out. She had reach up and gingerly touched her head. The blood had dried, but she knew it was still there. She had surveyed the area, squinting her eyes to see in the dark, but nothing out of the ordinary as far as she could tell. She had stood, feeling nauseous once more, but ignoring it, as she stumbled toward the sound of the river. Her eyes were bruised from the blows he had inflickted on her and so was her mouth, she couldn't speak, she found when she tried to cry out for help, and she was wobbly on her feet. But she ignored all the protests from her aching body, and just headed toward the sounds of the water. She was just up the embackment, when she heard someone laugh behind her. She didn't have to turn around to know exactly who it was. It was him. He called her name.

And that had been when she had started to run.

But now she was angry at herself for giving up so easily. She screamed once more, feeling herself fall forward. She fell flat on her face, blacking out for a moment. Slowly, relunctantly, she surcummed to the darkness that settled over her. Then, she saw twinkling lights above her head. She opened her eyes, painfully slow, and the twinkling lights that had danced before her faded away. She saw the night sky, purple over- head. She saw the stars, maybe the Big Dipper, she wasn't sure. Then, she saw him standing over her. She saw his eyes, dark and wild. She let one painful scream escape from her, but he silenced her with one hard blow.

A moment of peace settled down over her. She felt as if she were falling. But she wasn't afraid, she thought about landing on a cloud. The tension from her body floated upward and she let herself go down, down, down. She saw Noah's face--He smiled at her--She reach for him. The sudden realization of a light blinded her, but it felt warm and inviting. She knew she was supposed to follow it. She knew that it was where she was supposed to go. She did not fight the warmth and serenity that she felt then. She let it take over and she slipped into the unknown, unafraid as she did so.

He had hit her with a tree branch, but she didn't know that. He hit her repeatedly, until he knew she was dead and not just unconcious, but while he was using such force to do his job, he was careful not to mess with her face anymore than he already had. He wanted to preserve her beauty. He kicked her a couple times just to have something to do. When he had realized that she was no longer breathing, he turned and ran back toward the direction he had came like the coward that he was. No one had seen him that wasn't supposed to see him. He saw the headlights as they passed by him, but he ignored them, because he knew who it was that was in that particular car. That person had given him 1000 to do what he had just done. He didn't look back as he jogged down toward the embackment where he had raped the girl who was dead on the bridge now. Anyway, he was sure that no one would care in the morning that a girl like her was dead. She was nothing; no one special. No one would miss her...


	2. Chapter 1

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

summary: _Danny & Lindsay investigate the murder of an up & coming movie star._

rating: **M**

pairing(s): none, yet. hints of DL

author's note: this is the 1st story in a series of CSI:NY related stories i have been working on. i do not own CSI:NY or the characters. they belong to Zuiker & Co. i just get visitation rights, lol. again, while there are hints of DL & angst in this story, this is NOT A DL LOVE STORY!! all mistakes are mine. i take full responsibility. feedback is love :) enjoy!!

* * *

**Chapter 1**

Detective Danny Messer, NYPD-CSI, and Lindsay Monroe were the first on the scene.

The call had come in at 6 a.m. that a police officer who was making his rounds at the park on the lower East side of the Hudson River, had spotted a girl laying on the pavement. He had investigated it himself, first, but quickly realized that he needed to dispatch Homicide. Detective Don Flack, Jr., NYPD, Homicide Division, had called in CSI and told them that he would meet them there. He was not there yet.

Danny made his way over to the yellow colored taped off crime scene area and examined what lay before him: A young woman, between 18 and 21 years of age lay naked from the waist down, except for some ripped stockings and shoes, on the pavement with a puddle of blood around her head, making it look like a halo and casting her in an eerie resemblence to an Angel.

_A fallen Angel_... Danny thought as he set his kit down to begin his work.

"This job never gets easier..." came Lindsay's soft voice from his right.

Danny looked up. She held her kit in her hand, but her light eyes were glossy as she stared down at the victim. She was white as a sheet, he noted. Something was definitely spooking her about this crime scene.

"See right here, there is something in her wound," Danny said as he dug into his kit to pull out some tweezers and an evidence bag. He reach over and extracted something small and brown, it almost looked like a twig, but it had some weight to it. Danny examined it a bit closer. "Bark?"

Lindsay leaned down and examined the small piece of wood held between the tweezer teeth in Danny's hand. "So, she was hit with a piece of wood?"

He glanced around. "Nothing here. Maybe our perp threw it over the bridge," Danny suggested.

Lindsay lowered herself down beside the vic. "She got a pretty bad beating..."

Danny grabbed his camera and turned it around. He took several pictures, then placed the piece of bark into the evidence bag, before snapping more photos from different angles.

When he looked back up, he noticed Detective Flack coming from the main road. He was dressed in his usual black suit, neck tie, and held a no-nonsense-look over his chiseled face. In his hand he held a styrofoam cup. He stopped at the yellow roped off crime scene line.

"What do we have, Dan?" Flack asked, gesturing to the woman lying on the pavement.

"Female victim--atleast 18 years old--a uniform found her at about 6 a.m. while he was on patrol. It looks like she was murdered sometime after midnight, but I can't be for certain--Sid'll have to determine that..." Danny answered as he stood up.

Flack nodded as he took a sip of his coffee. He pushed the tape aside and stepped through.

"You can't drink that here," Lindsay told him without looking up. She took the vic's hand in her own to examine it.

Flack glanced at Danny, who shrugged. Most of the time, Lindsay did not speak that way to anyone, especially not someone who had seniority over her like Flack, but Danny had a feeling that something was working over-time in her head. She had just returned from Montana and she was still trying to shake things off, he knew, but she wasn't going to let that keep her from doing her job. Maybe it just gave her a bit of a back-bone for the time being.

"I was just finishing it," Flack told her. He took one last sip, then, handed it off to a uniform who stood near by. "Thanks."

Danny stepped back and snapped a couple more photos.

"You think this is random?" Flack asked as he reach into his coat pocket and pulled out a thin black notepad. "Match any other MO's we know of off hand?"

Danny shrugged. "I'd check."

Flack jotted a note in his pad to look into it.

"She put up a fight," Lindsay spoke softly once more. "Check out her fingernails."

Danny leaned down and shot a photo of the nails as Lindsay turned them around for him to see for himself. She pulled out a few tools from her kit to scrape underneath the young woman's nails. She put her findings in an evidence bag, then busied herself with finding more clues.

"COD?" Flack asked as he wrote something down in his pad.

Danny shook his head. "I'm guessin' whoever killed her, hit her over the head with something--see that blood there," he pointed to the caked blood on the back of her head, which had spilled over onto her forehead and dried there.

Flack nodded. "What do ya think the weapon was?"

"Maybe a tree branch. There was wood fragments in her wound. But there's no sign of a weapon here. I guess he could have thrown it in the river," Danny explained.

"It'd be long gone by now," Flack agreed as he wrote something else in his pad.

Danny glanced around the taped off area. "That's probably correct. Unless..."

"What?" Flack asked, unsurely.

"He could have just thrown it down in the park. I mean, wood is wood. Right?" Danny finished.

Flack nodded. "I'll get Murdoch and Fitz to check around in the park if you like."

"That's fine. Montana and I don't mind doing it. That's our job, Man."

Flack grinned, which caused him to wrinkle his nose a bit. Then, he winked at him, knowingly. Danny decided to take that as a compliment. Having Flack not argue with him was better than the alternative, he supposed.

"Do you think she might've been dragged up here?" Flack asked after a moment.

Danny stepped over to the edge of the yellow line where Flack stood. "It's possible. I mean, look at the gravel there. It's obviously been disturbed."

"And no one's been here since the cop found her?" Flack asked, slowly.

"Just me and Montana," Danny answered matter-of-factly, as he pushed his hands on his hips.

"So, maybe she was off that embankment, then," Flack said as he pointed down toward the embankment that went back into the park area.

"I see it. The attack might've started there..."

"And ended here..." Flack finished.

Danny turned to him with a grin of his own. "You took the words right out of my mouth, Don."

Lindsay stepped over to the two men. "You know, her fingernails were manicured, and they have a lot of dirt underneath, more than there should be if you're gonna go to all the trouble of paying for a mani. It's consistent with what I found, Guys. She was dragged at some point, but not on the pavement. There are no scratch marks anywhere here," she told them.

Both men nodded.

"She probably ran from here... To there..." Danny pointed out.

"ID?" Flack asked as he stepped back over to the body.

"No. No ID." Lindsay answered as she followed along behind him.

"Didn't really have to, though. She's an actress," Danny smiled.

Flack glanced at Lindsay who shrugged. Danny saw that neither of them knew who the vic was.

"Um, yeah... She's Chloe Phillips. She's in that horror movie, the one about the serial killer who stalks them sorority girls at that ivy league college," Danny explained.

"Aren't they all?" Flack asked, sarcasm dripping from his lips. He chuckled a bit, glancing over at Lindsay as he did so. She smiled back.

"Seen it, Danny?" she asked, playing along.

Danny frowned. "No. You wouldn't go with me, remember?"

"That's cos Linds here has better taste, Dan-o!" Flack laughed.

"Wise guy," Danny muttered as he turned back to the vic. "Anyway, what I can't figure is, why would someone wanna kill such a pretty girl?"

"She was sexually assaulted, too," Lindsay sighed. "Panties are gone."

"Probably likes a trophy," Flack commented thoughtfully.

"Sick bastard..." Danny whispered to no one in particular.

Flack and Lindsay both nodded, but said nothing more about it. Lindsay took her samples and put them in the evidence bag. She felt herself begin to shake as she did so. Danny noticed it, and figured it must have really bothered her to think that this poor girl had been sexually assaulted and left for dead by some psycho-path.

"Think it was an obsessed fan?" Flack asked as he jotted something down in his notepad. "Maybe she wouldn't sign him an autograph or something?"

Danny shook his head. "I don't think so. See, if it was a fan--he wouldn't have left her lying out on the street like this. He would have been a lot more careful about how he dumped the body and what have ya. A lot of times when it's a passion killing of sorts, the killer will go as far as to stage a scene to leave the body at. I mean, if he was killing her because he loved her and didn't want anyone else to have her, he wouldn't have done it in such a brutal manner like this appears to be. He would have shown some mercy. This guy--he didn't show an ounce of mercy here."

"Check out the bruises on her lips, Danny. He punched her..." Lindsay said as she positioned her camera to snap a couple photos of the bruising.

"Yeah, but those are superficial bruises there. They'd heal in a couple weeks, tops," Danny answered. "She could have worn make up and no one would have noticed."

"He's right. I've seen women come into the station house with this kind of bruising from where their husbands have gone into a drunken rage. The women always wore a lot of make up when they'd come in for an interview. Those were just to make her be quiet, I'd guess," Flack agreed.

Lindsay stood and headed back down toward the embankment. "We've got skid marks!" she shouted back to the two men.

"Probably our vic's. She could have skidded..." Flack told Danny.

Lindsay stepped under the yellow tape and crouched down to examine the gravel just beyond it. "Danny! Flack!" she shouted.

The two men turned and jogged over to where she stood just beyond the yellow taped line.

"What'd you find, Montana?" Danny asked.

"Foot prints. Here--" Lindsay pointed just beside where the gravel was disturbed. "Here," a couple feet below that. "And there," she pointed a little to the right beyond the second ones.

"Three different people?" Flack asked, incrediously.

"I guess we'll find out," Danny answered as he headed back to get his kit.

* * *

tht's chapter 1. let me kno what'cha think :)


	3. Chapter 2

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

rating:** M** in general

summary: introducing my OC, Abby Walker. she works at Miami-Dade under Horatio Caine. she is about to get some news.

disclaimer: i do not own CSI:NY or CSI:Miami, they belong to Zuiker & Co. i am only borrowing em. i do, however, own Abby Walker!!

author's note: all erros are mine!! i take full responsibility!! enjoy!! plz R/R.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Abby Walker was stressed out.

She had never been the kind of girl who broke under pressure, but she didn't like to be stressed out, either. When she had been younger and in elementary school, the teachers had tried to break her several times, but she had never told them anything they wanted to know about anything. And for that, Abby had gotten detention more than once. In high school, she had been the one that all of her friends turned to when they needed an alibi, because she was so good at lying and not giving the parents what they knew she was hiding. It even worked now in her job. She was good at bluffing and she was good at calling a bluff. But most importantly, Abby didn't break under pressure.

Unless it had to do with Leiutenant Caine. He was her Achilles Heel. He was the straw that broke the camel's back, so to speak. Yep, he was her breaking point.

She set in the waiting room that was reserved for the family members of victims and squeezed her stress ball over and over again. It had been ten minutes since Horatio had called on her and her hand was hurting. She had DNA tests waiting for her at her station. She had a case file to pour over once more to see if she had missed anything on the perp she was chasing. But when Horatio called, everything else went on the back-burner.

"What's up?" came Calleigh Dequesne's sweet southern voice.

Abby looked up. "Oh, hi, Calleigh. I'm just waiting on H. You?"

Calleigh smiled. She was tall and blond and beautiful, but she was not a ditz. She was smart and determined and Abby could only hope to be half the CSI she was. The two of em were friends. Pretty good friends, actually. So, Abby knew she could be herself when she was around Calleigh, let her guard down, which was something rarely ever did.

"I'm heading out to a scene on the beach. I wanted to soak up some rays, but not like this."

Abby smiled. "I would gladly trade places with you right now."

That was a lie. Abby hated death. She had always hated death. But her job was a-smorgas-board of death on a daily basis. Everything around her smelled of death, and it was a stench she had become accustomed to. But still, there were moments when she wished she had chosen another career path. Then she remembered what Horatio had told her when she had first come to work at Miami-Dade Crime Lab: _It wasn't her that had chosen the job, so much as it was the job that had chosen her_. And she tried to rememeber those words when she got down on herself for working with death every day.

Calleigh chuckled. It was light, but Abby knew she was feeling the same heaviness she was that was in the air. It had been there all day. "Well, good luck in there, Abby. I'll talk to ya later."

They waved good-bye, Calleigh heading toward the main entrance; after she was gone, Abby went back to squeezing her stress ball. Five more minutes passed and no one walked by her as she set in the small padded chair. She fidgeted a bit as she checked her watch. _Horatio will be here soon_, she repeated over and over in her head. She kept trying to remind herself that when Horatio Caine made an appointment, he kept it.

"Abby," came Horatio's soft voice, almost as if she had willed him to be there.

Abby stood up and pushed her stress-ball into her pocket. She moved with confidence as she crossed the waiting area and through the door. Horatio walked over to a desk and set down. He watched her for a moment, then motioned for her to do the same. Abby set down across from him, this chair was big and leather, and more comfortable than the previous one she had been sitting in. She relaxed slowly, letting her muscles loosen as she did so.

"How are you, Abby?" Horatio asked, not moving his sparkling blue eyes from the young woman seated across from him.

Abby smiled slowly. "I'm good."

"You seem to be doing quite nicely," he agreed.

"I like it here. I mean, it was--"

"I know, Abby. I know it's hard. And with the anniversary being this week," Horatio whispered.

Abby crossed her legs. "I just--"

Horatio waited. Abby felt the tears. It was easy to cry infront of Horatio. He just seemed to understand so easily and it made her feel comfortable to let her guard down around him. She didn't have to be the tough CSI/Criminal Profiler that she was, but be a vulnerable woman who actually felt and had emotions.

"I'm sorry," Abby apologized as she dabbed at her eyes. She knew her eye liner was going to run.

"No need," Horatio reassured her, reaching her a handkerchief across his desk. "I know it's hard to talk about."

"Thanks," Abby sniffled, taking the handkerchief, wadding it up in her hand, but never touching it to her eyes. "It's not that hard anymore. I mean, it's... It's not as fresh as it was when I was 18, ya know?"

Horatio nodded. "I think you're strong, Abby. I think that's what makes you so good at what you do. You know I only want the best for you. Right?"

"I know." Abby paused. "Is this what you wanted to see me about? To see if I'm ok with the anniversary coming up?"

Horatio's face showed nothing. Abby had found in the years that she had known Horatio Caine (and that had been all of her life, as far as she was concerned) he was hard to read. She was very skilled at that aspect of her job, it had become 2nd nature to her, to be able to read people, get inside their head. It was part of what she did, after all, but with Horatio, there was just no getting inside him. He was not very forthcoming and that had always annoyed the hell out of Abby!!

"I called you in here for two reasons, Abby." The red headed man, who was not wearing his trademark sunglasses at the moment, began, leaning over his desk, hands clasped out before him. "One: yes, I wanted to know if you were doing ok with everything. I talked to Chad and he said that he thought you'd be fine, but I wanted to make sure for myself."

"How was Daddy?" Abby asked with a twinkle in her eye.

"Your Father is very well."

"Good. I'm glad he's your friend," Abby told him.

"I'm glad you're his daughter," Horatio countered with a smile.

Abby smiled back. She was proud to be Chad Walker's daughter, too. He had been a Homicide Detective and had worked Miami-Dade force for all of nearly thirty years before retiring. The murder of his oldest daughter, Jescyka had been devistating on him, and he had sworn to find her killer. But he had failed to find the man who had done such a terrible thing to such a beautiful girl like Jescy Walker.

After the murder, which shook Abby pretty bad herself, she had decided to pursue a career in Criminal Justice. She was what the feds called a Criminal Profiler, but she was more than that, she also had a concentration in Psychology and was a certified CSI. She was good at what she did. And if it hadn't have been for her Father's influence and support, she wouldn't have been able to have gotten as far as she had in the field. And not only did he believe in her, but so did Horatio Caine, and that was something she cherished.

"What is the second reason you asked to see me, Horatio?" Abby asked, feeling the stress returning.

Talking about her sister's death and the anniversary of it wasn't hard, but she was still not sure what was really going on with Horatio. Was he not satisfied with her work? Was he going to fire her? The questions began to circulate through her mind, but she said nothing.

"My second reason for calling you in here today, Abby, is because I got a call a couple days ago from Detective Mac Taylor in New York."

"Um-hm?" Abby asked, feeling the tension as it began to melt away once more.

"Well, he's got an opening in his Department. He needs a Criminal Profiler, so to speak. What with your background and references, he thinks that your talents would be better suited in a city like New York. And... I think he's right," Horatio answered.

"New York? Like, New York--New York?" Abby asked, her voice rising suddenly.

Horatio nodded, letting a small smile play about his lips as he did so.

"I've never been to New York before," Abby informed him.

"I know," Horatio answered.

"I can't--Wh--You're letting me go?" Abby asked, slowly.

"If you want to go. I think Mac could benefit from your expertise and I think you're ready to move forward. You can't stay here forever, Abby. I mean, you're welcome to, but you have something inside of you that New York needs. And I want you to do good things," Horatio told her.

Abby set back and let the idea of going to New York City settle over her for a bit. It was a nice thought. A nice feeling came over her then. A nice, happy feeling. She could have squealed, but she knew better because if she did that, then half of Miami-Dade police would be swarming the office within seconds. Instead, she laughed lightly. It made her inside tingle to think that Horatio Caine believed in her that much to recommend her to another department when he could have chosen anyone else to have gone to New York and work. This was definitely a dream come true.

"Do my parents know?" Abby asked, remembering her parents.

Horatio nodded. "Yes, Chad and Angela know. I called them right after I spoke with Mac."

"And they're ok with this?"

"They're exstatic, Abby. They want you to go. They want you to succeed. They want you do what Jescy never got the chance to do. Do you understand?" Horatio explained, softly.

"I think so." Abby bit her bottom lip thoughtfully. "I want to do good."

"And you will, Abby. You will."

Abby stopped for a moment. "Is Danny Messer still in New York?"

Horatio was confused for a moment, then a knowing smile came over his face. "He is. Why do you ask? I thought you two were still in contact."

"Not lately. He's not returned my emails. I just--"

Horatio waited.

Abby smiled, nervously. "No reason, Sir. I was just wondering."

Horatio dropped the subject as well.

"When do I leave?" Abby asked, tucking a piece of her chocolate brown hair behind her ear.

"In two weeks. Is that ok with you?"

"Two weeks is fine. I'm--" Abby stood up. "Thank you, Horatio. Thank you so much for believing in me."

"There's no need in thanking me, Abby." Horatio stood up and shook her hand. "You did all the work."

After they shook hands, Horatio told Abby to take a lunch break that way she could start making plans for the move. Abby did as he asked, and headed straight to the break room to write out her list of things to do before the two weeks were up. But she found herself thinking about Danny more than writing down her plans.

It had been nearly a year since the two of them had spoken on the phone, and almost six months since they'd communicated by email and she missed him. It had been almost two years since she'd last seen him--face to face. It had been during the Marshall Griffin case that the two of them had first met. Horatio had met him a while before when he had gone to New York on a pretty high-profile case of his own and met Danny there, along with Detective Taylor. Eversince, Horatio had kept in contact with Mac. The two of them were friends; had become close. So, when there had been a murder in NYC and linked to a man in Miami, Mac and Danny had come down to help H out like he had them.

It hadn't been a long stay for the two CSI's--all of two weeks, but that had been long enough for Danny and Abby to strike up a friendship. He was quite charming and not bad to look at, either. The accent had thrown Abby off a bit, at first, because she preferred southern ones over New York ones, but after a while she had found that it wasn't quite as obnoxious on Danny. It suited him just fine.

But while it was thrilling to Abby to know that she was going to New York in just a matter of days and that she'd get to see Danny very soon, it was just as scary to think the exact same thing. He brought butterflies to her stomach and, sure, that made her feel good. He had been so sweet to her while he had been in Miami, making her feel safe when they had gone out to question the suspects, like no matter if someone shot at them, he'd take the bullet for her, and he had helped her to see that the clues were special and unique to each crime scene. While H and Mac had worked together on piecing together what exactly had gone on from state to state, Calleigh, Delko, and Wolfe had been assigned to work on one crime scene in Miami, H had called on Abby to work with Danny.

He had been specifically paired up with her, she was sure, because they were so much alike in their way of assessing a crime scene. He definitely had a way about himself: he wanted to do his very best, even if that meant breaking a rule or two. He liked to be in charge--Abby knew that, but he let her feel something more than she should have and that had been better than the alternative. There had been times, when she was really not in the mood that he would throw out some kind of wise-crack, and it had annoyed the hell out of her, sure. She would suddenly find herself getting so pissed at him and that was part of the deal. He did have a way of pissing her off. And when he pissed her off, she would be about ready to leave him standing there on the side of the road, or in the building they were investigating, or in the lab, just to blow off some steam. Then he'd grin at her with that cheshire cat grin of his, and all the anger and frustration of the day (and the anger and frustration she felt toward him) would just melt away

At the end of the day, it had only been her and Danny standing on that street corner. Even if the moment had only been in passing, she had felt it and she had been positive that he had felt it, too. He had left just as quickly as he had came. But they had promised, like two high schoolers after graduation, that they would stay in touch. He had kissed her good-bye on the forehead, and given her a long hug, but nothing more than that had come of their friendship.

They had talked on the phone once a month and emailed each other once a week, for a little over a year, then he stopped calling or answering her calls or returning them, even. She had emailed him--he emailed her back. But six months ago, even they had stopped. She knew that they were friends, but she had secretly hoped against hope that maybe Danny Messer would be more than just a friend some day.

"Hey, Abby! What'cha got there?"

Abby looked up to see Ryan Wolfe standing in the door way. He was young, tall, and handsome. He was intense, and Abby liked that about him. But he wore his emotions on his sleeve. She could read him like a book, and she liked that, too. He was cute and smart and sweet and sometimes funny. She thought that possibly, given different circumstances, they might've dated, but not there. Not while they were both Miami-Dade CSI. That wasn't in the cards for them. Not today. Not tomorrow. Not ever. And Abby was fine with that. She wanted someone else entirely. And he was waiting for her, in New York, she hoped.

"Just my list."

"Of what?" Wolfe asked coming over to the small table and sitting down.

"Things I have to do for the next two weeks."

"You planning a trip?" he asked, eyeing the top of the page where she had jotted down **NEW YORK CITY!!**

"Um, I'm transfering, actually," Abby answered in one breath.

"Transfering to NYC?" Wolfe asked, even though he already knew the answer.

Abby nodded, avoiding his eyes.

"Just like that?"

"Well, H talked to Detective Taylor and--"

"He needs you?" Wolfe's voice broke.

"Yeah. I'm needed there."

"For CSI work...? Or Profiler work...?"

Abby smiled. "A lil of both, I guess."

"And you'll be seeing Messer, no doubt?" Wolfe asked, almost to himself.

Abby met his eye. "What is that supposed to mean, Ryan?"

"I just--I meant that he's burnt you, Abby. Do you really wanna put yourself in that position again?" Wolfe asked, choosing his words carefully.

Abby tilted her head to the side. "I can handle myself, Ryan. Don't worry about me. I'm a tough girl."

"I know. Believe me... I know." Wolfe grinned. "But I don't want my friends to get hurt on the job or otherwise, ya know?"

"I'm not gonna get hurt. Danny Messer and I are just friends. Ok? So, anytime you feel macho, go take care of Calleigh or Boa Vista, alright?" Abby asked with a grin.

"I got it, Abby." Wolfe returned her grin, as he stood up and headed back to the door. "Oh, you know what we should do?" he asked, turning on his heel. "Have a going away party for you."

Abby laughed. "Ryan...No."

Wolfe nodded as he headed out the door; he got the hint, she didn't want to make a big deal out of her leaving.

After he left, Abby closed her notebook and stretched. New York was going to be good for her. She knew that. She needed to believe that. And soon, she would find the happiness she had been searching for. It had to be in New York.

well, tht's Abby Walker, ya'll. she's a bit of a hopeless romantic, i think & a dreamer. i wanted her to be a Profiler, but when i started writing her parts, in other stories, she actually doesn't behave like a profiler to me, so eventho tht's part of her back-story, she's more into the CSI stuff like everyone else, if tht makes sense. also, i think i suck at writing Miami characters, they always seem a lil OOC to me. i think it might be cos i don't watch the show as much as i used to/watch CSI:NY & they're so over-the-top in general, it's hard for me to write em, cos i always wanna tone em down a bit then i feel weird whenever i do. idk. just hope ya'll like the story so far. next chapter will pick up with the murder investigation. chaio.


	4. Chapter 3

title: **Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author:** BambiBlake007**

pairings: none, yet. hints of DL/past & present

rating: M just to be safe :)

summary: Danny & Lindsay are investigating the death of a young up & coming movie star.

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny or the characters portrayed within.

author's note: i take full responsibility for errors. they are all mine. also, i'm no CSI/lab tech in real life, so any kinda technical/science mumbo-jumbo tht may be spoken of here, i really have no idea what i'm talking about, lol. totally pulled it outta my ass!! again, R/R. feedback is love :)

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"What have ya got for us, Sid?"

Danny and Lindsay stepped into the coroner's office. Sid Hammerback, holding a clipboard full of information in his hand, turned when he heard the two CSI's approaching. He welcomed them with a smile as he reach up and removed his black rimmed glasses.

"Our vic tell ya anything?" Lindsay asked.

"Oh, she told me a lot," Sid agreed. "She was definitely hit over the head with some type of wood--probably just a random branch that he found in the park--nothing special. She also put up a fight, like you thought. She dug her nails into the gravel, probably trying to resist him."

"What makes you say that other than the dirt beneath her fingernails?" Lindsay asked, curiously.

"Uh... At first glance, you wouldn't notice the bruising on her ankles, but when I removed her shoes and what was left of her stockings, I found what appears to be bruising from a hand being wrapped around them," Sid explained solemnly. "Very light bruising, but still bruising."

"So, the SOB grabbed her by the ankles and pulled?" Danny asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"That's what appears to have happened. Also, I noticed the bruising on the mouth. That was deliberate," Sid continued.

"Flack and I figured that much," Danny agreed. "To keep her quiet, right?"

"That's about right. He broke her nose, too."

Danny glanced up from the body. "He break anything else?"

"A couple ribs. He kicked her. But that was after she was dead. Probably just wanted to get a kick in for good measure. Very deliberate," Sid said again.

"So it wasn't random?" Lindsay asked.

"I'm not sure about that one. I have Hawkes looking through our files to see if this murder matches any other MO's around the city like Flack asked. But he hasn't found a match, not even a partial one, yet."

"Do you think it's a fan killing?" Lindsay asked, not meeting Danny's eyes as she spoke.

"This was definitely not a fanatical killing. I think this was just someone who wanted her dead. I mean, he went to a great length of trouble to make her bleed. That's not matching up with a fan killing. They usually strangle their victims or suffocate them, don't make them bleed out like this guy had her do," Sid confirmed what Danny had told Flack and Lindsay at the crime scene.

"Did you find anything inside of her?" Danny asked. "Linds said she was raped."

Sid flipped through his notes, pushing his glasses back on. "There was a small trace of semen found inside of the vic. I sent it, along with Lindsay's findings, to DNA. We should have results soon. But I doubt our perp's in the system."

"Why do you say that?" Lindsay asked.

"He's a pro. He knows what to touch and what not to. I mean, he left no prints behind. Probably wore gloves. He didn't ejaculate very much, just a small amount. He obviously didn't use a condom, so he wasn't afraid of getting caught. He knows we don't have his DNA in our data bank. I'd say this isn't the first killing he's done. But he hasn't been processed either. He's gotten away with a lot of crimes and I'd say he's expecting to get away with this one, too," Sid explained. "We can always give it a shot and hope for the best, though."

Danny and Lindsay nodded in agreement.

"Got a time of death for us, Doc?" Danny asked.

Sid nodded. "Between midnight and 2 a.m."

"That would explain why the blood clotted like it did. We didn't arrive til well past six," Danny told the ME. A grimmace came over his face as he thought back to it.

"I'll let ya know when the test results get in from trace and DNA. I still have to send the samples for tox, but that shouldn't take long, I have a buddy who owes me a favor down there. Other than that, we just have what you guys found at the scene and what the body told me: she was a young, healthy girl, who didn't deserve to die this way," Sid smiled weakly.

"We did find footprints at the scene and I think they're analyzing some tree branches that we picked up in the park, just in case one of them was used. I think we should go talk to Adam now," Danny told Lindsay.

"Sure," Lindsay agreed.

They told the ME not to hesitate to call them when he found out more, and left him to finish his work.

"You ok?" Danny asked as he and Lindsay stepped onto the elevator.

Lindsay hugged herself--moving back toward the wall. "I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"I told you I was fine, Danny. You don't have to baby-sit me," Lindsay answered, colder than she meant to sound.

"Alright. I get it. You're shutting me out again. That's cool, Montana. Just shut me out like you always do," Danny told her, his voice rising slightly as he spoke.

Lindsay sighed, heavily. "Look. I know you worry about me, Danny. And that's sweet. Really. But I can't have you worrying about me. We can't--"

"What?" Danny demanded, his blue eyes widening in confusion.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have brought this up. I know you're just trying to be supportive. I just--"

"Tell me, Lindsay."

"She was so young, Danny. Just a kid, really. And she got her life snuffed out of her..." Lindsay answered, softly.

"It's sad. I know it reminds you of a lot of bad shit, but we have a job to do here and you can't let that get in the way of doing your job. Understand?" Danny asked as he chewed on his bottom lip.

Lindsay stared at him for a moment without answering. "Danny. I can't deal with your bullshit right now."

"You don't mean that."

"I do. You don't get to decide how I feel. Not when it comes to the stuff that happened to me in Montana," she told him.

"I didn't mean to be pushy, Linds. I just--" Danny sighed as he scratched the back of his head. He wasn't good at apologizing, but if that was what he had to do in order to make things ok between him and Lindsay, then that was what he would do. "I'm sorry."

Lindsay bit her bottom lip for a moment, avoiding his eyes. "I know you just worry about me."

"That's an understatement," Danny smiled.

"I just--I want you to know that I'm ok now. I don't want you to feel like you have to handle me with gloves. Alright? I'm not one of your cases."

Danny nodded. "I got it. No glove handling."

Lindsay smiled up at him, feeling herself let the moment take over. Letting the warmth between the two of them settle down in the elevator. She wanted to kiss him. She wanted him to hold her. She wanted him to be her rock. She needed Danny Messer more than he would ever know. But Lindsay had decided a long time ago that she would not let him know what she secretly longed for.

He might have his own secrets to hide, but she knew that he could never fully understand what she had been through. She did not want sympathy; she did not even want empathy from him. She wanted him--the flesh wanted what the flesh wanted--but she knew better than to go down that road again. He was reckless and dangerous in his own sweet way, but Lindsay didn't want him to know she wanted him to be everything for her. If he thought that he was her everything, then he might not be all the Danny he needed to be. He was unique. She was not. And Lindsay wanted to keep it that way.

They held each other's eye for a moment longer. They started leaning toward one another, but the moment was over as soon as it came--interrupted by the sudden ding of the elevator and the doors sliding open. Stella Bonasera and Flack stared back at the two of them, an odd expression over both their faces.

"Danny. Lindsay. You going up or down?" Flack asked, trying not to grin.

"This is our floor," Danny cleared his throat as he stepped through the elevator doors.

Flack smiled at Stella. She returned it with one of her own. Lindsay stepped through the elevator, gave a nervous smile to the two Detectives, quickly following Danny down the main corridor toward the tech lab.

"Let's go," Stella told Flack as she stepped through the doors.

"Those two are definitely hiding something," Flack stated as he stepped onto the elevator, too.

"They're young. Good looking. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what's going on between the two of them," Stella told him.

"They're sleeping together?" Flack asked, cocking an eye brow up.

Stella smiled back at him, but said nothing.

Flack stared down at his shoes for a moment before he spoke again. "Messer's such a man-whore."

"Jealous, Flack?" Stella asked with a twinkle in her eyes.

Flack sighed. "Just a lil bit."

Stella had to a laugh at what the Detective said. He was over six feet tall, with dark hair, sparkling blue eyes, and chisled good looks. He could easily have any woman he set his sights on. Yet, he was jealous of Danny Messer, who was barely five-foot-nine. True, Danny wasn't very tall, but he was still a lil cutie pie. Every girl thought so. Not necessarily the traditional definition of handsome, like Flack would be categorized as being, but still nice to look at with his dirty blond hair and baby blue eyes that were held behind a pair of glasses, he wore partly out of habit and not so much because he couldn't see without them. He was geek-chic, Stella had often found herself thinking, when she looked at Danny in his glasses. His vulnerability was astounding. He had long reminded Stella of a little boy who needed to be loved and reassured by his superiors that he was doing good. He wanted approval, that was all. But his mystevious side always got the better of him.

No wonder Lindsay Monroe was tailing him wherever he went these days, because he was exciting and dangerous--like a roller coaster ride--you didn't want to go on it because you were afraid of the possible 100 foot fall, but you just had to ride it just to feel the thrill of almost dying, but being pulled back from the brink just before you did. Hell, Stella had to admit that she enjoyed the time she spent with Danny when they got paired up on a case together. He always made her laugh and he always made her think about things in a different light.

Stella was still shaking her head with a grin when she and Flack got off on the ground floor. Flack even let himself grin a little, too. He knew it was silly to be jealous of little Danny Messer, but he just had too many women swooning over him, and that wasn't fair. But why was Lindsay so smitten with him? Flack never could understand that one. He was going to find out what made her want Danny so much, if it was the last thing he did.

Danny and Lindsay stepped into the lab where Adam was working with the samples that Danny had made on the foot prints found at the crime scene. He smiled at the two CSI's when they entered.

"Got your beep. What'd you find?" Danny asked, eyeing the molds he had handed off to Adam.

"Your killer was definitely a man. I can tell you that right off."

"Figured, given that blunt force trauma was COD," Danny said non chalantly. "Women don't usually hit that hard."

"Yeah." Adam walked around the table. Danny was a nice guy and all, and Adam thought of him as a friend of his, but he also made Adam a bit nervous with his cocky exterior.

Adam was a geek, much like Danny was when it came to lab stuff, but while Adam was a geek through and through in every sense of the word (on the job and off), Danny was not. He had street smarts and that always made Adam a little uncomfortable in his presense. Also, Danny had looks and every girl within a 10-mile radius noticed Detective Messer whenever he walked into a room.

Adam grinned, hesitating. Danny and Lindsay waited. Patience was something they had learned they had to have when dealing with Adam Ross. The lab was his territory.

"Anyways. As I said, the killer was male, but there were three different foot prints found at the scene, right?" Adam asked, even though he already knew the answer to his own question.

"Sure," Lindsay went along with him.

"These are our perp's. Boots--probably cowboy." Adam pointed to the first mold. "I'd say there is caked mud on them if you looked close enough. The mud up there at the river is red. He'd have to have cleaned them after he left the scene."

"You think he left some behind, though?" Danny asked as he stepped over to the mold for a better look.

Adam moved back a bit to give him room. "Yeah. There's no way he got all of the mud off. Look at how deep this print is."

Danny stepped back with a nod. "Makes sense. I mean, if he stepped down hard, he'd have to get dirt on the bottom. That stuff is tricky to get rid of no matter how much you scrub it."

"Yeah." Adam paused again. "This second print is our girl. I ran it against the shoes she was wearing and they're a match."

"So, she did run up the embankment?" Lindsay asked, glancing at Danny.

"Looks like it from how scuffed her shoes were," Adam offered.

"And she probably fell, right?" Danny asked.

"Well, her shoes were a pair of those real pricey kind that only rich people can afford. And she was an actress, right?" Adam asked, glancing at Lindsay then back to Danny. They nodded. "I don't think she'd have scuffed them on her own. I mean, why pay out top dollar for something that nice, then destroy it? Just doesn't add up to me. I'd say she had some help from our perp. He chased her and she fell, seems logical to me. If she hadn't have been running or tripped, her shoes wouldn't be messed up like they are."

Danny picked up an evidence bag. "These her shoes?"

Adam nodded.

Danny turned the bag over and over in his hand. It was a clear plastic baggy that resembled a larger than necessary zip-lock bag. He noted the scuff marks that Adam had told them about only moments before and the red dirt that was caked under the heel. He also noted something that Adam had not told them: one of the heels was broken; it wasn't in the bag with the rest of the shoe.

"Broken heel?" he said out of no where.

"Yeah. I noticed it, too. Cheap shoes break all the time, but these go out of the store for over a thousand dollars. You wouldn't think they'd break that easy, not even from running," Adam answered.

"Maybe knock-offs?" Lindsay suggested.

"No. They're the real deal. I even checked the store that makes them. They are one of a kind, but they shouldn't have broken that easy. Did you find any broken heels at the scene? Maybe they just forgot to bring it to me or something," Adam said as if it were normal for the team to forget part of the evidence.

Danny shook his head. "Naw. Montana and I checked over it ourselves before we left the uniforms to handle the rest. There was not a broken heel there."

"Then, maybe my first thought was correct."

"What was that?" Lindsay asked.

"The third print." Adam turned to the last mold on the table. "It's a girl's shoe, too."

"But not like our vic's?" Lindsay stepped over to the mold to examine it closer. She brushed up against Danny as she did this, but they both pretended not to notice.

"No. This one is definitely not like our vic's." Adam chuckled. "I don't even think it's from the same price range as our vic's shoes. This one is similar to what you'd find at a Mom and Pop shoe store. Cheap. But nice to look at."

"How do you figure?" Danny asked, raising an eye brow.

"I found a little bit of glitter in the plaster. I thought I'd seen it somewhere before. So I checked a couple of the stores out in Brooklyn that are locally owned, but advertise on the TV. Sure enough, I found a Mom and Pop store there that sales designer looking shoes for little or nothing. The only difference is they put a lot of glitter on them--mostly silver like the glitter I found in the print--ya know, to make them sparkle like the stars. I had seen this store a couple times, and when I saw the glitter in the imprint, it just clicked in my mind," Adam told them proudly.

"Cool." Danny agreed with a cheeky grin. "Who knew you knew so much about fashion."

Adam smiled back shyly, his face turning all shades of red.

"If there was another girl there, then why didn't she stop the killer?" Lindsay cut in.

"Maybe she was just a passer-by."

"Naw. No one disturbed the scene. Montana and I were the first there besides the cop who called it in. It was already roped off when we arrived and if anyone had been there, we would have talked to them," Danny answered.

Adam shrugged. "You think this girl who wore the cheap shoes, watched?"

Danny glanced at Lindsay.

"Got off on seeing some one killed?" he asked.

Lindsay shrugged. "It wouldn't be the first time."

"But that still doesn't explain where the heel to your vic's shoe went," Adam told them.

Danny moved the baggy around in his hand a little bit more, feeling the indention the shoes made in the palm of his hand as he did so. Something didn't add up about this murder, but he had a feeling the contents inside that small discreet looking bag was very crucial to the case and in solving it.

"What're ya thinkin', Danny?" Lindsay asked.

Danny looked up from the baggy in his hand. "Maybe our spectator took it..."

* * *

dum-dum-dum!! so the plot thickens...

**author's note:** this was the 1st ever csi:ny story i wrote. i thought it'd be a good time to tell ya'll tht :) while, i don't consider myself a DL shipper ever this story does have some moments where ya might think it's headed in tht direction. i did this purposely for 2 reasons: 1, being tht it was shortly after the whole "montana thing" & b, cos the angst b/t the characters is kinda fun to write. also, i think i might write lindsay a lil ooc. i don't mean to do this, honest. but on a positive note, it does give ms. monroe a bit of back-bone, no??

if ya want more, show me some love!!


	5. Chapter 4

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

pairing(s): none yet

summary: a lil insight into Abby Walker. Danny talks to the vic's mother.

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny or the characters. i am only playing with em :) i do own Abby Walker, tho.

author's note: i take full responsibility for mistakes. they are all mine!! R/R. feedback is love!!

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Abby unlocked her apartment door and stepped inside.

She turned, shut the door back, making sure to lock the door's conventional door-lock, the sliding lock above the main door-lock that had been installed before she moved into the apartment, and the dead-bolt: the one she installed the same day she gave the super her deposit. She knew it was silly to be freightened, still--it had been so long since her sister had been murdered. But there was just something about the thought of a young woman living alone, even in Miami, where she had lived for most of her life, that made Abby feel very uneasy.

Abby put her bag down on the couch, throwing her jacket over the backside of it, and kicked off her shoes. She felt more comfortable barefoot; did her best work when she was barefoot. She stretched like a lazy cat would do on a warm summer day and padded through the apartment to find something to eat. It was odd, she mused as she opened the refridgerator door to find only day old pizza which would have to suffice for now, that she did not have to report to work in the morning.

Abby pulled the box out of the refridgerator. Two slices were left, she saw. Mental note: _Do Not Eat Like A Starved Dog In New York City. Check._She decided to eat both pieces, because there was no need in wasting them. She opened the cabinet over-head and got a paper plate. She was hungry, because she had not eaten at break when she was supposed to have, but that was not reason enough to be uncivilized. She didn't bother heating the pizza; a habit she had acquired from years of eating-on-the-run. She set down at the small table, which held two chairs, but never saw two people at it. She began to eat the pizza, cold and hard, but good, because she didn't think about the way it tasted in her mouth as she took slow, even bites. She was thinking about other things at the moment. Things that were still out of reach, but a definte possibility.

After eating both slices of her cold pizza, and feeling full for the first time in quite a while, Abby grabbed a juice out of the refridgerator and headed back into the living room. As Abby was taking a long sip of her juice, letting the cool liquid go down, feeling completely heavenly as it did so, there was a scratching sound at the front door. Abby crossed the room and unlocked all the locks she had only just locked back, and peered down at an adorable orange and white striped tabby, who looked back up at her with the most intense blue eyes of any cat Abby had ever seen.

"Hey, Pumpkin." Abby smiled at the cat on her doorstep. The cat purred. "Sorry about locking you out. Please, do come in," she told the cat.

The small cat stalked into the apartment like she owned it. She was not Abby's cat, by any means, just a stray that she had found to be friendly so she let come in every once in a while. This relationship was strictly beneficial for the cat, though. Nothing expected in return. Abby would feed her tuna fish and milk and she would lay around on the window sill above the sink, lazily for an hour or so, soaking up the last remaining rays of the day, then she would tip-toe through the house, sit down in front of the door, and wait. Sometimes Abby would oblige quickly and let the cat out, bidding her good-bye. Other times, she would fight the urgency and just watch her. Observe her persistence. She would not falter one bit as she set, her tail coiled around her backside, determined not to be a prisoner of this humans' house. Abby would watch as the small cat, well fed and content with being only a customer and nothing more, would come over to the couch and nuzzle at her leg.

She could be a lover when she needed to be. She could be a fighter when the situation called for it. But for the most part, Pumpkin would not give up on her demands. When she wanted something, she would work very hard for it. The way the cat functioned, doing what she needed in order to get what she wanted, had reminded Abby of herself. She would get up after a while of letting the cat nuzzle at her leg and purr happily against her skin, and let her out. She would let her go back into her secret-world, leaving Abby alone like before, in hers. But that was the way Abby liked things--consistent.

After Abby went through the regular routine of the evening with Pumpkin, she relocked all of her locks and checked her messages. It was the first thing she usually did, but on this night, because of the excitement she had been feeling all day from the prospect of going to New York and seeing... Dare she say it out loud, it might not come true... But it was OK to think it, wasn't it? She was going to see Danny Messer. She was going to see him...

The first message was from her mom:

_"Hey, Abby! It's Mom. Call me. Love you, Baby. Bye."_

The second message was from her dad:

_"Hey, Abbers!! It's Daddy. I just thought I'd call ya. Nothing wrong. Miss ya. Love ya. Bye, Kiddo."_

Third message:

_"Sis! Guess who! It's Gabe. I just wanted to congratulate you! Wow! New York--Really? Well, me and Madeleine are very happy for you. I did some work up there last summer and it was awesome, I know you'll Love it. Anyway. The baby is still growing--wish you could see Maddy's belly--it's huge,"_ a chuckle_. "Well, I'll talk to ya later. Love ya. Bye."_

The last message was from Detective Mac Taylor from New York City:

_"Ms. Walker? This is Detective Mac Taylor, head of the CSI department in New York City. I am sure by now, you know that I am interested in having you come up here to work with my team. I contacted Horatio and he was supposed to speak with you. I hope you greatly consider coming here. And that you know this will be a wonderful opportunity for you. One I think you will not regret. Your services would be greatly appreciated by the department... And me. It's hard to find CSI's, who also have a Criminal Profiler background, with the kind of experience and recommendations that you carry. Anyway. Sorry, I missed you. I'll be getting in touch with you before you leave. Have a wonderful day, now. Bye."_

Abby smiled. She rewound the tape again and listened to the message from Mac two more times. It was reality now. This was real. Going to New York was real. Sure, it had been a nice thought all day, since Horatio had called into his office, but this set it in stone: hearing Mac say that he wanted her to come there. Hearing him say that he would benefit from her expertise. Hearing him say that she deserved this opportunity. When it came time to go to bed, which was well past midnight, because Abby suffered miserably from insomnia, she fell asleep feeling happy and excited about what lay ahead for her in the next couple of weeks. For the first time, in a very long time, Abby Walker slept like a baby.

Lindsay stood outside of the interrogation room.

A woman who appeared to be around forty and bore a striking resemblance to the murdered girl, set at the desk. Her eyes were red-rimmed from where she had been crying for the past fifteen minutes she had been sitting there, alone.

"You ok?" Danny asked, touching her shoulder lightly from behind.

Lindsay jumped, startled. "You scared me," she hit him on his arm, playfully.

"Whoa! Sorry!" Danny grinned, putting his hands up in the air as if he were surrendering. He turned to the window that Lindsay had been peering into. "Who's she?"

"Chloe Phillips' mom." Lindsay grimmaced. "Remember the last mom, Danny? I couldn't talk to her. I totally froze. I--Can't talk to her. She's sitting there, wanting answers. And I can't bring myself to go inside. I really wanna talk to her, Danny," she lifted her eyes to him. "I just--I try to go in there and... This is as far as I seem to get. Why can't I just go in there and tell her that her daughter was murdered?"

Danny smiled at Lindsay. It wasn't his usual smirk, bad-boy smile. It was his sweet, understanding one. The one that he only gave to Lindsay. She returned it with her own, but it was uncertainty he read over her face as she did so.

He reach over and took the file from Lindsay's hands. "I got it, Montana."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Mom's are kinda my speciality," Danny winked.

Danny stepped into the interrogation room, closing the door behind him. "Ms. Phillips, I'm Detective Messer. I'm here to speak to you about your daughter."

"Langston. My last name is Langston," the woman sniffled.

Danny glanced at the file in his hand. "So it is." He grinned at her. "I apologize."

"That's OK, Detective. I... uh... I know it's an honest mistake. Alice used a stage-name," the woman answered as she took a napkin from her bag.

"Chloe's real name is Alice?" Danny asked as he took a seat.

"Yeah." The woman blew her nose, rather loudly. "She liked the meaning of Chloe. It was Greek; meant _flowering_. She always thought of herself as a flower, you know? She wanted to blossom one day, be a huge star. Be famous and use it to help others. Alice was a good girl, Detective. She was..." Her voice broke off, but Danny noticed there was a faint smile over her face as she remembered her little girl as she had once been.

Danny nodded, slowly. He readjusted his glasses as he licked at his lips. An unconscious habit on his part. "Ms. Langston--"

"Please, call me Renee. I'm not an old woman, Detective."

"Ok. Renee, then you can call me Danny, if you like," he told her.

Renee nodded as she wiped at her nose again.

"Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt Alice?" Danny asked, slowly.

Renee scratched her eye brow. "I don't know. A couple girls at her old high school were jealous of her because she got that part in a commercial for American Eagle. But..." she tilted her head to the side for a moment. "For the most part, everyone Loved Alice. She just--She had a good heart... Danny... And..."

"It's hard, I know." Danny reach over and took a hold of Renee's hand that rested on the table top.

"Thank you," Renee smiled, her voice soft and even, but still holding some emotion behind it.

Danny took his hand away. "I need to know if Alice was into drugs or anything of that nature."

Renee looked up. "No. I mean, teenagers experiment, right?"

Danny nodded.

"Alice was a responsible kid, though. I don't think she would have--"

"That's alright. Tox will tell us if anything was in her system," Danny assured her.

Renee nodded as she dabbed at her eyes. It was hard for her to hear that her daughter might have been doing drugs on the night that she was murdered, but Danny knew that it was better to give her a little light into what might have been going on instead of leaving her there in the dark. That was just the way Danny's mind worked. He didn't want to be a liar. Not even a half-ass one.

"Did Alice have a boyfriend?" Danny asked, as he pulled out a clean sheet of paper from the file.

"Sean. His, uh, name is Sean Buckley. You don't think..."

"We just have to rule him out. OK?" Danny jotted the name down. "Any close friends?"

"Yeah. Alice had a lot of friends, but she had three best friends. She met em after we moved down here from Boston. Michelle Lehman, Ashley DuGray, and Kris Whitmore. They practically grew up together." Renee's eyes darkened suddenly. "Oh, God! I didn't call them. I don't want them to find out from the news. Can I go now? I have a lot of stuff that needs to be taken care of." She stood up to leave.

Danny nodded. "Of course." He stood. "We have your number. I'll call ya if we need to ask you anymore questions."

"Thank you." Renee stopped at the door. "She was my baby. I would have given my life for her." She paused, "Do you have any kids?"

Danny shook his head.

"Too bad. You seem like the kind of man who would make a wonderful father."

"Someday," Danny agreed.

"Yeah. Someday." Renee resisted the urge to cry again. "God gives them. And God takes them away. I think..." Her eyes glossed over. "Alice is in Heaven. She was my Angel. And this way, she'll always be an Angel."

Renee was smiling through her tears, but Danny knew it hurt her to come to this realization. She would never see her daughter alive, again. She knew that. Deep down in her heart, she knew that she was still alive and her baby daughter was dead. She just had to hold onto the hope that her death was something that God willed for her. If she didn't believe in that, then she would surely go crazy. But Danny didn't have any answers for her at the moment. Things were not answered for him as it was. He couldn't tell her what she longed to hear. That the person who killed her kid would never do it again. He wasn't sure about that yet. The prospect of the perp killing again was still high, because they had very little to go on. But he knew, at that very moment, that he would not forget the look in this woman's eyes. The desperation she let shine through. She wanted answers, and if Danny had to chase the man himself, without Flack, Lindsay, or anyone else at his side, he would catch the bastard who had murdered Renee Langston's beloved daughter.

Renee smiled one last time at Danny, reguarding him as she would any casual aquaintance. She said nothing more and Danny decided it would be best if he didn't speak, either. She left the interogation room, leaving Danny with only his determination to solve this murder and the anger toward the coward who had committed the crime, boiling over inside of him.


	6. Chapter 5

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny or the characters. they will forever belong to Zuiker & co.

pairing(s): none really. hints of DL past/present. some hints of a possible relationship b/t Danny & Angell. i kno. i can never decide, lol.

summary: Flack brings Danny some evidence. Danny & Angell look for a suspect. my summaries suck!!

author's note: i take full responsibility of mistakes here. they are all mine!! all mine i tell ya, lol. plz R/R. feedback is love!!

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**Chapter 5**

Flack came into the lab where Danny was testing the branches that had been taken from the park.

He set the file folder in his hand down on the table. Danny looked up from the microscope he was studying the pieces under. He had his glasses tucked high on his head, and his blue eyes were shining mysteviously.

"What's up?" he asked.

Flack pointed to the file. "Found our vic's boyfriend. He's pretty well on the up-and-up, just a few parking tickets and petty theft when he was in Junior High."

Danny pushed his glasses down as he opened the folder to read through the information. "Sounds like our boy here likes to park in the handicapped spots," he smirked. "And steal CD's?"

"That's not all. He's big on fake ID's, too. Probably even owns his own laminating machine."

Danny chuckled. "Bet his buddies owe him big, huh?"

"Yep. And you have a pretty girlfriend like Chloe Phillips on your arm. Could get an itch to steal more than just CD's," Flack smiled, coyly.

"Might even cause a guy to get greedy. Wanna get rid of someone so he can have the money for himself..." Danny agreed.

"You think the boyfriend is the guy?"

Danny shrugged. "I dunno. We need to speak with him. Lindsay got called out with Hawkes. Can you come with me?"

Flack paused. "I can't. I have some loose ends to tie up on Stella's case. Sorry." He looked up, cocking an eye brow. "Maybe you should take Angell with you."

Jennifer Angell was another NYPD Detective that worked with the CSI team. She was young and pretty; Brooklyn-born-and raised, just like Danny. She had street smarts and wasn't afraid to tell anyone off if she felt like it. Danny liked her alright. She was a no-nonsense sort of girl and could hold her own when it came to men. She reminded Danny of an old friend of his that he missed very much and sometimes that did hurt him, looking at Angell and thinking about Aiden Burn. But he liked to work cases with Angell because she got the job done. If he couldn't take Lindsay with him, he couldn't think of any other girl he'd want by his side than Detective Angell.

"Yeah. I guess I could." Danny turned back to the samples lay out on the table.

"You found anything yet?" Flack asked, eyeing him for a moment.

"Nothing specific. I mean, it's just trial and error at this point. I can have Adam deal with this, if need be. He's pretty good at sorting these puzzles out, ya know. My main priority is to talk to this Sean Buckley kid," Danny answered softly.

"What about the friends?" Flack asked.

"I'll deal with them later." Danny shut the microscope off and turned to the Detective. "Angell got her cell?"

Detective Jennifer Angell met Danny at the corner of West 25th Street.

She gave him a cool smile like she did to most men she worked with. While the two of them got along famously and usually worked out their cases along the same lines, she didn't let her guard down even with him.

"Angell," Danny spoke, holding a smaller version of his regular kit in his hand.

"Danny," Angell said back.

She was dressed in a black leather jacket over a crimson colored top with dark-washed boot-cut jeans and black high-heeled boots. Her long black hair was curled down her back in lushious waves. Angell was not your normal looking NYPD Homicide Detective and most people would probably not even know she was a Detective if she didn't have her badge on her belt and a gun on her hip, beneath her jacket. Beside her, Danny looked nothing like a CSI, either. He wore a light blue colored button down shirt, which matched his baby blue eyes to a T, dog tags, a pair of dark jeans which were a little baggy on him through the legs and were being held up by a leather belt that looked as if it had seen better days, which also held his badge in place. He held his gun on his hip and wore a pair of chocolate brown colored boots on his feet.

"Did you get the address from Flack?" Angell asked as she fell into step beside Danny.

"Yeah. It's right up here," Danny pointed as he led the way through the crowded street.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Angell had already gotten most of the details of the case from Flack when he had faxed her the case file on it, but she didn't have to know much more than what he had sent to her, to know that this was a gruesome murder and the perp needed to be caught. She could see in Danny's eyes that he was determined to capture him and she was content in being at his side when he did so.

They came upon an older looking apartment building. There was no door man. The building was dark. And seemed to grow darker with each step the two of them took inside. Danny stepped over to the security guard who set behind a glass window.

"How ya doin'?" Danny asked, his accent thicker than it usually was.

"What'cha need?" the older man asked, without looking up from a small TV set.

Danny smiled at Angell, who smiled back. He was not going to cooperative.

"I'm looking for this kid. He live here?" Danny asked, pulling out a picture of Sean Buckley.

The security guard looked up from his TV set. He frowned, then turned back to the TV.

Danny snickered beneath his breath as he glanced over at Angell. Angell stepped forward and took the picture from him. She pulled her badge out and held it up to the window. The man looked up then.

"My friend here asked you a question, Sir. Do you mind doing me a favor and answerin' him?" Angell asked.

The man stared at the picture for a moment. "I know him. He lives in 45C. He's a smart-ass."

Angell grinned at him. "Thanks."

"That all?" the man asked, eyeing Angell for a moment.

_Perv_, Danny thought as he watched the man's eyes move over Angell's body, probably undressing her in his mind.

"Your cooperation is greatly appreciated. You did your good samaritan deed for the day," Angell assured him as she put her badge back on her belt.

She turned to Danny. "That's how we do it in Brooklyn, Messer."

Danny thought about mocking her, decided against it and laughed sarcastically as he took the picture back from her. Angell ignored him, grabbing his arm and tugging him along. She knew he didn't like it when a woman showed him up, but it was just so much fun to do. After all, who didn't Love making Danny Messer squirm? It was just too damn easy!

Danny and Angell stood on the elevator, feeling the sway of the old car as it moved upward to the third floor. It was old: most likely unreliable, not the safest ride in the city, and creaked like mad. It made an uneasy feeling drift through Angell, starting in her stomach and moving slowly to reach every other organ in it's path. She grimmaced, more for her own comfort, then looked around at Danny and smiled weakly. The two of them were at eye level, standing only inches apart. It felt nice.

"So, you and Monroe are working this?" she asked.

Danny was taken aback. Angell usually didn't get too personal when they worked together. "Whoa. When did you start caring who I work with?"

"I don't. I just thought--"

"You just thought what?" Danny asked, cocking an eye brow up, trying to intimidate Angell, but there was no way of doing that. No one intimidated her.

Angell smiled slow and sweet like she always did, her perfect lips arching outward and making her even more prettier than she had been only moments before. "Oh, I get it. Monroe's off limits for us to talk about."

"No. I mean, you can talk about whoever you choose, Jenn. I just choose not to talk back," Danny corrected.

Angell nodded. "She ok?"

"She's ok."

"Ok."

Danny sighed heavily. "What now?"

"What? I was just askin', Danny. It's not like I wanna marry you."

Danny tilted his head to the side with a smirk. "You think about that?"

"No! I work. I don't think about marriage." Angell waved her hands out infront of her as if this gave her words more meaning.

Danny chuckled.

"What?" Angell asked. Danny shook his head. "What is it, Danny? Tell me."

"You ever think you might be missin' out on somethin'?" he asked.

Angell shrugged. "Sometimes, I guess. You?"

"I think I would if the right girl came along."

"Lindsay not the right girl?" Angell asked, taking mental note of what he had just said.

Danny realized she had caught it and wiggled his head a bit. "I--I couldn't tell ya that. She's got issues."

"Issues are fun," Angell said sarcastically.

Danny nodded as he pushed his hand through his dirty blond hair. "You on the market, though?"

"You askin'?" Angell winked.

Danny blushed. "You're beautiful and definitely my type..."

"But?"

"But I have a girl with issues, alright," Danny smiled.

Angell nodded. She knew what he meant.

"I don't know. I was thinkin' you might be able to get a date out of Flack--or something," Danny told her slowly.

The bell dinged and he doors slid open. Danny hesitated. Angell stepped through the door. She stopped and turned back to the young CSI.

"You comin'?" she smiled.

"You ain't gonna beat me up?" Danny asked, seriously.

Angell tilted her head to the side. "Get over yourself, Messer. I don't put that much thought into your sorry ass. Sorry to disappoint ya."

She turned and headed down the hall toward the apartment that Sean Buckley lived in. Danny pushed the door back before it closed in on him. He made his way down the hall, catching up to Angell within seconds.

"You want me to put in a good word for ya?" Danny asked, with a slight chuckle.

Angell stopped infront of 43C. She turned to Danny. "You want me to put in a good word for you to Flack?" she grinned.

"Got it," Danny nodded. "You want me."

"I told ya to get over yourself, Messer." Angell leaned over and knocked on the door. She turned back to Danny and winked.

Danny grinned back. He couldn't return a quip of his own, because the door creaked open and a woman stared out at the two of them, holding a cigarette in her mouth; it wasn't lit. Danny noted that she had a lighter in her hand.

"Can I help you?" she asked, chewing a little on the end of her cigarette as she spoke.

Angell smiled pleasantly at the woman who might have been an attractive at one time in her life. Now, she was anything but. Her eyes which appeared to be blue were dulled by years of disappointment, along with age lines around her mouth which smoking only made worse. Her thinning light brown hair was swept up into a messy clip, her frame was small, and she looked like she hadn't eaten in days. An addict? Angell wondered exactly that as she glanced over to Danny, who must of been wondering the same thing, because he was eyeing the woman suspiciously behind his glasses. But they were there for something else. They were there to find Sean Buckley. One perp at a time.

"Yeah. Do you know--uh--Sean Buckley?" Danny asked.

"He's my son. What's Bucky done now?" the woman asked.

Danny glanced over at Angell with a grin. She returned one of her own. They never had to say anything--they just understood each other's body language. It was a Brooklyn thing, they figured they'd tell anyone if they ever asked.

"Bucky?"

"Sean's nick-name. His dad gave it to him," the woman reach up and lit her cigarette. She took a long draw. "Bastard. Only thing he ever gave me that was worth anything was Bucky."

"Well, have you seen _Bucky_ today, Ma'am?" Angell asked.

The older woman reguarded the younger woman for a moment. Probably sizing her up. Most women didn't mess with Jennifer Angell. She could be sweet as pie when she wanted to be and ruthless as nails when she needed to be. Danny waited for the claws to come out.

"I haven't seen my kid, M_a'am_."

"Detective Angell. Please." Angell pulled her badge around for the woman to see. The woman glanced over at Danny, a questioning look in her eyes. "This is Detective Messer, CSI," Angell explained, solemnly.

Danny nodded with a smile as way of a greeting. The woman smiled back, seeing his rugged good looks for the first time. She leaned against the door facing. "What do you want with my son?" she asked, eyeing Danny as she took another puff.

"You know his girlfriend?" Danny asked, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a picture of Chloe Phillips. He handed it to the woman.

She gasped, but said nothing.

"This is important, Ms. Buckley. This is a homicide investigation. We need to find your son," Angell told her matter-of-factly.

She handed the photo back to Danny. "Pretty girl."

"She was murdered near the Hudson. Her mom's pretty broken up about it. I need to find the person who did this to her little girl. She needs closure," Danny told her, pleading in his eyes.

The woman nodded, taking another puff of her cigarette. "I don't know Bucky's friends. He's 21--ya know? What can you do? A kid like him wants to go out and stay at all hours, I can't control him. He's a grown man as far as the courts are concerned. All I can do is pray that he comes home. And if he doesn't--wait twenty four hours--and call the police. I don't have any say in what my own kid does anymore."

"So you don't know Chloe Phillips--are you sure?" Danny asked.

The woman shook her head. "Not a Chloe Phillips. Sorry."

"How 'bout Alice Langston? Know her?" Danny asked, his accent thick as he spoke.

Angell waited for the woman to resond. She looked thoughtful for a moment, but nothing.

"Alright. Any idea where your son might be? Got a job? A hang-out he likes? I'm sure you know something... Com'n. Me and Danny, here? We're not the bad guys," Angell spoke softly.

The woman's eyes glossed over for a moment. She might not have known where her son was exactly, but she had an inkling and it made her feel terrible to be the one that was about to turn him in to the NYPD. She moved the cigarette around for a moment, causing the smoke to trail behind it.

"I know a place. He likes to hang out there--good food. He worked there when he was in high school. The owner's name is Maurice; it's on 17th. He likes Bucky. Let's him crash there sometimes. Like a dad, I guess in some ways. Looks out for him. He might be there. I'm not certain, but he might be. And if he's not there... I can't help you any further," the woman told them, seriously.

"Thanks. This is a start," Danny told her.

Angell wasn't so sure the woman was telling them everything she knew. She told Danny this when they entered the elevator.

"Would you rat out your kid?" Danny asked.

"I guess not. But still, this is a homicide investigation. I mean, it's against the law to keep things from the cops that might be crucial in a case," Angell reminded him.

Danny chuckled. "I went through the Academy. I know."

"You think the kid's at the shop?" Angell asked, feeling like she had on the ride up.

"Let's hope so."

"You gonna talk to her girlfriend's today?" Angell asked.

"I'm gonna take Lindsay with me for that. She's gotta face her fears sooner or later," Danny answered.

Angell nodded in agreement. She dropped the subject of Lindsay Monroe and she let the feelings in the pit of her stomach drop with it. Danny was off-limits to her. At one time she had thought maybe there was a possiblity that they might be more than just friends, but he had seemed lost at that time, too. That had been when Lindsay had left for a few weeks to testify in Montana. While Angell had felt the attraction and known that they had grown closer over the weeks, because they had worked a few cases together, it still didn't ease her mind any. She hadn't wanted to take advantage of the situation. She didn't want to be the woman who kept him from being with Lindsay. She wanted him to want her back, not just want a good time. And that would have been all their time together would have been, in the end, just a one-night-stand. A good time memory.

The ding of the elevator cut into Angell's swirling thoughts. They had not spoken, and that had been ok. She stepped out of the elevator and followed Danny toward the front door. She would just have to keep things to herself. There was always a place and time to tell a man how she felt and Angell knew that moment was not now. Maybe not ever.


	7. Chapter 6

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

pairing(s): still none. lotsa flirting. but no significant pairings, yet :)

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny or csi:miami. no, they still belong to cbs & zuiker, company. they still refuse my offer.

summary: in miami, abby is preparing to leave. taking care of things in her office, with her friends, etc. meanwhile, in ny, danny is still investigating the murder of chloe phillips. he & angell have gone to question sean "bucky" buckley, the vic's boyfriend.

author's note: i don't like Delko. i like Ryan. but with Delko's track-record with women & rep for being a lady's man, i had no othe way of involving him in my story. i think he'd flirt with Abby, even if just for the sake of flirting, lol. PLZ, R/R. FEEDBACK IS LOVE :) :)

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**Chapter 6**

Abby stood on tip-toe, reaching high over her head.

Being kind of short usually worked for Abby--easy to squeeze her way through small spaces, if need be--but sometimes it could work more against her than in her favor. This was especially true when her filing cabinet was taller than she was. Abby cursed at herself for being short. She was stretching so far, that she almost fell forward on her face.

"Need a foot?" came a familiar sounding voice from behind.

Abby smiled at the lame joke before turning. The voice--and the joke--belonged to the one and only Eric Delko with his tan skin and those beautiful eyes lashes. She stepped aside and let the handsome CSI "help a damsel in distress."

"Thanks," Abby spoke softly, subconciously brushing a piece of her dark hair back from her eyes.

Delko pulled the cabinet out and set it down on Abby's desk. He was doing good, Abby mused as he moved around the desk. When he passed by her, she noticed his cologne. It smelled nice. He looked a little distracted in his eyes, but for the most part, Delko was becoming more and more like him old self by the minute. It had only been a few months since he'd been shot in the line of duty. Everything was a blur to him, but he was strong and he was doing his best to be normal again. She knew that all Delko wanted was to be treated like a normal person, he needed that in order to heal. He moved over to the door where he had been only moments before. He shifted awkwardly in place, like he had something on his mind.

Abby turned to the file cabinet. She wanted to clear everything out before she thought too much about it. She would store these files in a locker that Horatio would have access to. She would make copies for herself, and have them sent to New York with the rest of her belongings later. She would only take the ones labled: UNSOLVED or COPY-CAT strictly for reference purposes.

"Heard about New York," Delko smiled at her.

"Yeah," Abby smiled back, glancing up for a second, as she sifted through the files.

"Good for you."

"Who told ya?" Abby asked, not glancing up this time.

"Wolfe."

Abby nodded.

"So, you told Wolfe, but not me?"

"You sound disappointed. Want me to go rough him up a bit?" Abby grinned as she glanced up at him.

"No need." Delko bit his bottom lip. "You tell him bye?"

"Who, Wolfe?"

"Yeah, Wolfe."

"No. I didn't tell Wolfe bye. I didn't tell Calleigh or Natalia or Cooper or Frank or Alexx or Horatio bye either."

"I just thought--"

"What? That I intentionally by-passed you or something?" Abby asked, turning to him.

Delko nodded.

"Hey, I would never do that. You know how much you mean to me. We've been through hell and high-water together. Trust me, if I was going to tell anyone bye, it would be you or Calleigh." Abby meant it, too. He and Calleigh, along with Wolfe, of course, were the ones that knew her the best of the entire team.

"Good." Delko whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear.

Abby turned back to her files.

"You'll be an asset," he continued.

"I don't know about that," Abby chuckled as she pulled a file out to examine it a little closer.

"You know you're good, Walker. Why do you do that?"

"Do what?" Abby asked, playing along. She knew it was wrong, but she liked it when men complimented her.

Delko grinned. "You know what I'm talking about. You put yourself down--underestimate yourself. You're good at your job, but you want us to believe you don't feel

the same way."

Abby bit at her bottom lip. "Ok. Want the truth?"

Delko nodded.

"I'm excited about this. I just don't wanna get my hopes up, ya know? Because I'm afraid if I get my hopes up, then it'll all just crash and burn. I want to do good in New York," Abby sighed.

"You'll do good."

"I wanna do better than good."

"You'll do better than good."

"You think?" she asked.

"I know."

"How do you know?" Abby pushed.

"I just do."

"You lie," she smiled, playfully.

"I'm not lyin'," Delko grinned, shyly.

Abby nodded. "Think so?"

"Quit fishin' for a compliment, Walker. You know you're the best."

"I don't know about that--"

"You lie," Delko countered.

"I'm gonna miss you."

"Me, too," he told her softly.

Abby held his eye for a moment. "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm a lil misty eyed here. What'd you think?"

"That's not what I meant. Are you ok after--ya know?" she whispered.

"I'm ok. Don't be like Ryan. He drives me crazy with all the questions. I love the kid, but he can ask a lot of questions," Delko told her.

"He's a CSI. We're taught to ask a lot of questions."

Delko snickered.

"Eric?"

"Yeah?"

"You ok?"

Delko nodded slowly as he pushed his hands into his pockets. "I'm ok. I'm learning how to deal."

"You look good."

"That a subtle attempt at flirting, Abby?" Delko grinned.

Abby blushed. She felt the red moving through her face. "Who me? Flirt with such a fine ladies man like yourself?"

Delko shook his head with an unmistakle twinkle in his eyes. "I ain't a ladies man. I just like ladies."

"Aw, I get it." Abby nodded. "But you do look good, Delko. I just hate that I'm leavin' and not gettin' to see you recover completely."

"I'll keep you posted. Promise."

"Appreciate that."

They were silent for a moment. Abby sifting through her files and Delko standing in the door, leaned back, staring at nothing in particular on the far wall.

"I gotta go now."

"Ok," Abby smiled.

"If you feel the need to tell anyone bye... Please, do not hesitate to come looking for me," Delko told her with a grin.

"I'll remember that."

Delko gave her a wink then turned to leave.

After he was gone, Abby shook her head at how he was acting. Usually Delko was so sure of himself, but when it came to her, he was like a little kid wanting a cookie but knowing he couldn't have it. She thought it was adorable. He was always trying to be the tough guy, but when he was around Abby he let his guard down and just became the sweet sensitive Eric Delko--not the Detective man that pushed everyone away and only focused on the task at hand. Or the lady's man, for that matter, cos he knew when to respect a woman. Especially a woman he worked with. He treated Calleigh, Alexx, Natalia, and Abby with the same amount of resepect, it just so happened that a lil bit of flirting found it's way in there from time to time.

Abby went back to sifting through her files. She needed to focus or else, the next two weeks would creep up on her and she would have nothing done. She needed this done before her transfer. She would miss everyone, but she couldn't think about that now. If she thought about everyone and how much she was going to miss them, she would start crying. And Abby did not want to cry. Not now. Not infront of everyone. She wanted them to see the strong Abby Walker. The one that did her job and did it to the best of her ability without breaking down in the middle of a sentence to feel.

Because if she let herself feel--she would let herself cry--and if she let herself cry--she would let herself think--and if she let herself think--she would never walk out that door--and if she never walked out that door--she would never get on that plane--and if she never got on that plane--she would never go to New York--and she didn't go to New York--she would not get to work under Mac Taylor--and if she did not work under Mac Taylor--she would not see Danny--and if she didn't see Danny--she would never be truly happy--and if she was never happy--she would never live--and if she never lived--she should have been the girl who had gotten shot that spring day and not her sister Jescyka, who would never have let her fears and uncertainties dictate her choices.

Maurice's was an Italian Restraunt in Brooklyn, near the old neighborhood.

Both Danny and Angell knew the place well. As kids, both had come in and ordered a Canole from time to time. It was much like most other places in Brooklyn--it was a restraunt by day and a seedy place for the few mobsters left to do their business. But two Detectives were not there to bust some low ended mob fellow--they were there to find Sean Buckley.

"That's our boy," Danny whispered to Angell when they were a couple yards away.

The skinny kid on the corner, smoking a cigarette, was a dead-ringer to the photograph Flack had supplied. He did not see them as they approached.

"NYPD!" Danny shouted more out of habit than actually feeling that it was necessary to do. He held up his badge.

The kid turned. Registered the two Detectives headed his way. And bolted.

Danny thrust the small kit he had been carrying into Angell's open hands, and took after him, his legs not spanning quite the distance that the kid's was, because he was well near six feet tall. Angell did not radio for back-up, because she knew Danny would gain ground on the kid before he had time to duck out of sight. There was not many people on the street at this time of day, most were in their air-conditioned offices, so it only took Danny a few meandering sprints to get close enough to grab the kid and push him up against an empty building which set dark amongst the restruants and shops.

"What're you thinkin', huh?" Danny breathed heavily against the kids' back as he pushed him into the cool glass. "You runnin' from a cop? I coulda shot ya back 'ere. What was you thinkin'?"

Angell came upon the scene, her face a little flushed. "You betta answer him, Kid. He'll just keep askin'."

"I freaked out."

"You freaked out?" Danny glanced over to Angell with a smirk. "He freaked out."

"I heard," she agreed with a smirk of her own.

"You're lucky, Kid. Jen and I are from the old neighborhood. We can see how you could've freaked out when you heard that back 'ere." Danny's accent was thick.

Angell watched as he turned the kid around. Danny let go of his arm and stepped back next to Angell, brushing against her shoulder for a moment as he took his kit from her. The kid flexed his muscles, massaging his wrist.

"I didn't hurt ya," Danny told him, his voice full of sarcasm.

The kid frowned. "What do ya want?"

"You're name Sean Buckley?" Angell asked, nodding toward the kid.

The kid smiled, slowly, taking the woman who stood before him for the first time. "Who's askin'?"

"Detective Jennifer Angell, NYPD, Homicide." Angell pushed her badge up for him to see. "You already met my friend, here, Detective Danny Messer, CSI. You're name Buckley or not? I'm not about wasting my time."

He glanced over at Danny. "She always this pushy?"

Danny nodded.

"Even in bed?" the kid asked.

"Unbelievable!" Angell threw her hands up as she turned on her heel.

"Hey, now. Don't insult the lady with your lack of maturity," Danny put a hand up.

The kid leaned back against the building that Danny had thrown him into when he had grabbed him from behind.

"I'm Sean Buckley. But everybody calls me Bucky."

"See? How hard was that?" Danny asked. "Why'd you have to be such an ass when Detective Angell asked you? Apologize to the lady."

Bucky grinned, unbelieving. "You serious?"

Danny nodded, his jaw tight from how serious he was.

"Sorry about being an ass," Bucky whispered.

"Apology accepted," Angell answered, dryly.

"What do you want anyway?"

"You know Chloe Philips?" Danny asked.

"Yeah. She's my girlfriend. Why?" Bucky asked.

"She's dead. You know that?"

The kid's face turned pale. "Ally's dead?"

Danny glanced over to Angell. "So, you called her Alice, too?"

"Well, yeah. I knew her before she was in that movie."

"How long you know her?" Angell asked.

"About five years, I guess. Met her a lil while after her and her Mom moved down here. We went to high school together. She was a year behind me. We started dating after she graduated."

"You an actor, too?" Danny asked with a smirk.

"No. I'm not an actor."

"What'd ya do, then?"

"I work at a shop down on 22nd. I rebuild engines. You two need a lube job?" Bucky winked.

Danny cocked his head to the side. "You wanna haul his ass in as bad as I do?"

"Yeah." Angell returned his smile with one of her own.

"You ain't got nothin' on me, Detectives. I haven't spoken to Ally since..."

"Since when?"

"A couple nights ago. When did this happen?"

Danny bit his bottom lip. "Were you with Alice a couple nights ago between midnight and 2 a.m. by any chance?"

The kid thought for a moment.

"Tell him, Bucky. If you don't come clean now, he'll just dig it up later and, trust me, you don't want Messer diggin' into your past, cos he'll find all kinda weird shit on ya," Angell told him, seriously, even though she was making it up as she went.

The kid sighed heavily. "Alright. I was with Ally a couple nights ago on the bridge. Me and her and Erin had gone up there to get high. Just smoke some marijuana--ya know? Mellow out. I passed out pretty early on into the night. I don't know what happened after that. I--I woke up at Maurice's the next morning. I just figured they brought me here."

"Erin a girl or boy?"

"A girl. A friend of Ally's."

"Her Mom didn't mention any Erin to me. Why not?" Danny asked.

"Probably because she didn't know her. Erin was obsessed with Ally. Always following her around--wanted to be famous, I guess, by association. She wasn't really part of the entourage, but she would just show up--ya know? And Ally didn't have the heart to tell her she wasn't invited," Bucky explained.

"I see. She was spongin' off--uh Alice?" Danny asked.

"No more than the other girls."

"And you never took a stab, huh? Content in being greasy?" Angell asked.

"Wait. You think I killed Ally?" Bucky asked. "I Loved her."

"Sure, you did. I mean, she was just busting out and making all kinds of money. You wanted a piece of the action, didn't ya?" Danny asked.

"No!" Bucky's eyes turned cold. "I didn't want anything from Ally, but her Love. We were going to get married. I asked her. She said yes."

"No ring on her hand. Maybe she wasn't as interested as you thought." Angell tilted her head.

"I couldn't afford a ring. Alright? I don't exactly make the big bucks to buy her the kind of things she has become accustomed to."

"You're a real-life K-Fed, huh?" Danny mused.

Angell snickered at the obvious insult.

"Are we finished here? I have work that needs to be done," Bucky told them, his tone cold.

"One more thing. I need yo boots."

"You've gotta be kiddin'."

"Do I look like I'm kiddin'?" Danny asked, his eyes boring into Bucky's face.

The kid glanced at Angell.

"He ain't kiddin'," she told him.

Bucky reach down and pulled his boots off. He handed them over to Danny, who in turn, handed them to Angell.

"Thank you. Now, if you will be so kind as to open your mouth," Danny began as he opened his kit.

"What the fu--"

"Don't." Angell's eyes flashed.

Danny held a swab up. "I need your DNA."

"Why?" Bucky asked.

"To rule you out. It won't hurt," Danny answered.

Bucky opened his mouth and Danny pushed the swab into his cheek. He pulled it out, placed it in a vial, closed the top, then pushed the sample back into his kit. He closed the top and smiled at the kid before him.

"Have a nice day," he told him.

The kid scoffed. Then, he turned and stalked, sock feet, back toward Maurice's Restruant.

"You think he did it?" Angell asked.

Danny shook his head. "He may be a prick, but I don't think he murdered his girlfriend."

"Why'd you take his boots?" Angell asked, holding the boots out to him.

"We found a print and Adam said it was from a boot. Seemed like the proper thing to do at the time."

Angell laughed as they headed back up the street to where she had parked her black SUV. Danny had a way of doing things that was all his own. Too bad, she thought as they walked side-by-side up the pavement, some people didn't appreciate his recklessness for how endearing it really was.

"Tell me our boys' boot matches the prints we found," Danny said as he came into the lab.

Adam turned, a little surprised by the sound of Danny's voice as it cut into the quiet that had settled over him in the small lab he used. Adam was a very quiet person by nature, because at a young age he had learned that being quiet would get him everywhere. If he made too much noise as a kid, he would have to pay the consequence. But if he was quiet and no one had to hear him, he would be allowed to do so much more than he had ever imagined possible. Now, as an adult, he still played by these rules. He was better off to be seen, than heard. Danny was the total opposite: he wanted to be seen _and_ heard! It amazed Adam at how Danny had had such a rough childhood, yet he was able to be this way. He wished he could only be half that strong.

"Uh, no. Sean Buckley's boots do not match up with the ones taken from the crime scene."

Danny crossed his arms as he let out a breath. "Figured."

Adam smiled weakly as he turned back to his microscope. Danny lingered there for a moment, watching him closely.

"Find anything on the branches?" he finally asked.

"Talk about a needle-in-a-haystack," Adam smiled, more to himself.

"Adam?" Danny asked, patiently.

"Oh, yeah. Uh, we found blood on this bad-boy right here," he gestured to a piece of wood on the table. "It's our girl's blood."

Danny moved over to it. Adam slid the microscope over to him. Danny pushed his glasses onto his forehead to view it. He stepped back and grinned at Adam.

"Next time Flack and me go out for drinks, you are so joining us!" Danny told him as he slid the evidence back to him. "You're a freakin' genius, Adam!"

Adam blushed from the compliment as he watched Danny push his glasses back down.

"Did you find any prints?"

Adam shook his head, his smile fading. "No. He wore gloves. The blood is all that connects our vic with an attacker. This branch was used to kill her, but no prints. Any luck with the semen?"

"I took a sample from the boyfriend. I have to check in."

The two of them were silent for a moment. Adam turned back to some other samples he had on his table. Danny watched him for a moment longer. He was so dedicated to his work. He deserved to have some fun. Danny might have otherwise shrugged off his earlier statement and forgotten it when it came time to follow through, but he would not do that to Adam. He would ask him to come along when he and Flack went out for drinks like they usually did on the weekends.

"Remember: next time we go out for drinks, you're comin', too. Alright?" Danny asked, pointing at him like that sealed the deal between the two of them.

"You don't have to, Danny. I know you were just being--"

"I never kid, Adam. And I never pity anyone, either. Got that?" Danny asked.

Adam nodded.

"'Aight. Later," and with that, Danny turned and headed out the door.

Danny walked into the Coroner's Office, expecting to be greeted by Sid, but instead, he was greeted by Sheldon Hawkes. He was a young black man, around the same height as Danny and same age, too. He had once been an ER doctor, but had been with the NYPD for quite sometime. He was now in the process of training to become a CSI. He was smart and serious. Danny liked that about him. He was also very thorough, so Danny knew that if he had found anything out of the ordinary, he would be sure to tell him. He was trust-worthy, to say the least.

"Sid got you working the stiffs?" Danny asked with a grin.

Hawkes shook his head. "I volunteered. Sid was swamped."

"I bet Mac misses ya."

"No more than he misses you. You're his right-hand. You know that," Hawkes countered.

Danny smiled, slyly. He knew that was the truth. And Danny never argued when it came to something that had to do with him and was the truth.

"You're one cocky individual, Messer. Anyone ever tell ya that?" Hawkes asked, noticing the smug look over Danny's face.

"Everybody. Atleast once a day."

Hawkes chuckled as he covered up the body he had been examining.

"Got something for me?" Danny cocked an eye brow up as he watched Hawkes grab a report from a pile on Sid's desk.

"Sid's results from the rape kit he did your vic."

"And?" Danny asked.

"They do not match the boyfriend's DNA you brought back," Hawkes shook his head sadly as he spoke.

"Strike three!" Danny grimmaced as he reach up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. He used baseball analogies a lot.

Hawkes nodded, trying to feel what Danny must have been feeling at that exact moment. Unlike Hawkes, Danny got emotionally involved in his cases. He knew better, but it was hard for him not to be this way, considering how emotional he was about everything else in his life. It was just the way Danny Messer was, and whether you felt it be right or wrong, really didn't matter. Danny was that kind of guy. He had been searching for understanding for most of his life, and now with each and every case that came his way, he found himself searching for more than just understanding, he was now seeking the cold-hard-truth. He needed to get involved in order to feel alive. In order to feel anything, it seemed. Danny would never admit it outloud, but he was afraid that if he didn't let himself get involved--and feel--then, he would never feel anything; never truly feel alive.

"Got Tox, too," Hawkes continued, pretending he didn't see the disappointment in Danny's eyes. He handed Danny the report.

Danny scanned it for a moment before he spoke. "Boyfriend said they were up there smoking pot. Looks like they were drinking alcohol, too."

Hawkes nodded. "You think it's possible the boyfriend got drunk and killed her in some kinda drunken rage?"

Danny shook his head. "No. I believe the kid when he said he didn't know anything."

"Then who's the real killer?" Hawkes asked, more to himself.

Danny handed the reports back to him. "I dunno. I've got a vic who wasn't killed by a fan. A boyfriend who I believe didn't do it. And a mystery woman."

"What now?" Hawkes pushed.

"I need to go talk to some girls now..."

"You always gotta go talk to a girl!" Hawkes shouted to him as Danny headed toward the door.


	8. Chapter 7

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: BambiBlake007

summary: Danny suspects something is going on b/t Lindsay & Flack. Danny & Lindsay question Chloe Phillips' friends.

rating: **M**, just to be safe.

pairing(s): none. hints of DL past/present. eluding to a possible FM relationship forming. idk.

**author's note:** idk. i was never really sure about what was going on b/t Danny & Lindsay during the Montana thing. ya kno, i think she was totally using him for her own advantage, now, but when i was writing this, i had no clue if he was the one being "love sick/jealous" or if it was her tht was just manipulating things to get her own way. so some of this may be a lil OC, idk. you judge it for yourself, i guess, lol. great, now i've told ya too much & you probably won't even read the rest, just cos ya think i have no idea what the heck i'm doing!! ignore me. just read it :)

**author's note pt2: **R/R plz. feedback is love!!

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Danny stopped by his office to call Lindsay.

He needed her to go with him to interview Chloe Phillips' friends. He felt that if he brought a girl along with him, they would be more apt to answer the questions. He would have called Angell, but she had already done enough for the time being. Besides, this was his and Lindsay's case. She might've gotten offended if he didn't call her.

Just as he was about to dial her number, Lindsay appeared at the door. Her face was flushed. She seemed distracted.

"Hey! I was just 'bout to call you," Danny told her as he put the phone back on the hook.

Lindsay didn't reply.

"Where ya been?"

Lindsay avoided his eyes. "With Flack."

Danny nodded, not pushing for details. "We gotta go talk to Chloe's friends."

Lindsay nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"The boyfriend is a no-go. His DNA doesn't match up with the perp's semen."

"You found him?" Lindsay asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"Yeah. Me and Angell tracked him down." Danny moved around his desk. "You OK?"

Lindsay looked up, blinking. "Huh? Yeah. I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"You seem kinda out of it. Have ya been cryin'?" Danny leaned down toward her as he spoke.

Lindsay shook her head. "I'm fine. I'm just--I'm fine, Danny. Ok?"

"Ok. I just thought--"

"You can't be my Knight in Shining Armor all the time, Danny! I have other friends, ya know."

"Whoa, Montana! I just asked ya if you was ok. You have got to stop biting my head off every time I ask you that."

"Maybe you shouldn't ask every five minutes," Lindsay answered, coldly.

Danny stepped back. "What were you and Flack doin'?"

"Nothing. Working."

"Anything else?" Danny asked, suspicious.

Lindsay's eyes widened. "You can't be serious!"

Danny didn't answer, keeping his serious eyes trained on her.

"Nothing is going on between me and Flack! God! Could you be any more childish?" Lindsay threw her hands up in disgust.

Danny pushed his hands against his hips. "I know Don."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Lindsay asked.

"He's charming, Linds. He's... Don Flack. You do the math," he answered.

Lindsay shook her head in disbelief. Sometimes Danny could be so damn impossible. Sometimes he could be insanely jealous--for no reason at all--and just expect her to accept that. Sometimes he could be annoying in the way that he jumped to conclusions--outlandish ones at that. She wanted to strangle him when he acted this way. He thought he owned her sometimes, and she liked the thought of that, most of the time, but sometimes she just couldn't deal with his possessiveness. It was like she could push him away and he'd just retaliate by smothering her even more. She knew it was not his fault entirely, because she had a bad habit of letting him get too close and then running away from his advances. She wanted to Love him, but it was not that easy for her to let her guard down and just let herself fall like that. She had too much from her past to begin letting go of it and letting Danny in. He had no idea of how to treat her, how to react to her, sometimes. She knew this. She knew she was the reason behind him behaving like some jealous idiot.

"Flack and I were working on another case, if you must know. He asked me to help him out with some DNA. We had to wait for some lab work and decided to get a cup of coffee. We were just talking," Lindsay told him.

Danny snickered sarcastically.

"That's not fair, Danny."

"What did you two talk about?" Danny asked, innocently.

"Stuff."

"Stuff?"

"Montana."

"Oh, Montana?"

"Danny--"

"No! That's fine. I get it. You can talk to Don about Montana, but not me. That's cool, really," Danny cut in.

"You know why I can't talk to you about what happened in Montana, Danny. It's just too hard..."

"Because I'm not Don Flack. Ya know what? You don't have to talk to me about Montana. I just want you to talk to me... About something," he reminded her.

Lindsay sighed heavily. She hated confrontations. "Are we done here?" she asked, after a moment.

"I guess we are. We have work to do." Danny pushed past her and headed down the corridor without another word. Lindsay followed behind, a headache coming on.

The three girls set on the couch, eying the two Detectives who were seated on the love-seat.

Ashley Du Gray, the one on the right, was a blond. Her hair was short, cut into a bob, and streaked through with a copper color that matched her eyes perfectly. She was dressed in a tight blue sweater that accented her curves perfectly with a short denim skirt that was tattered at the bottom. On her feet were silver colored strappy shoes.

In the middle was Michelle Lehman. She was tall and slim with reddish brown colored hair. She wore a similar outfit to what Ashely had on, except that hers was a mint green color and she wore black colored leggings that stopped just above her ankles. On her feet, were a pair of silver strappy shoes, like Ashely's pair.

On the left side of the couch set Kristine Whitmore, who everyone had been calling Kris since she was a little girl. She might have had a tom-boy name, but she was far from a tom-boy by the looks of things. She was dressed like the other two in pink. She did not wear leggings or a denim skirt, she wore a black one, instead. She had blond hair, obviously dyed, because her dark roots were showing through. She had on the same kind of shoes as the other two girls: strappy and silver.

Danny took note of the three girls' shoes. The mystery girl had been wearing a pair of shoes that had silver glitter on them. Adam had found the glitter in the imprint. Was one of these girls their mystery woman? The mystery woman who had watched?

"You three knew Chloe Phillips, then?" Danny asked, breaking the eerie silence that had fallen over them.

Ashley crossed her legs, seductively. She leaned over toward the young Detective. "Are you really a cop?"

Danny nodded, instinctively licking his lips. It was a terrible habit he had, but he couldn't seem to break it. He did it so much, it had become part of who he was.

"Ooh. Sexy lips..." Ashley purred.

Danny blushed, even though, he didn't mean to do it. She was just a kid. What was he thinking--leading her on like this? Making her think that he liked the way she was looking at him; the way she was speaking to him.

She moved her fingertip up her leg, letting it linger just below the hem of her skirt. She liked this. She liked to make boys sweat. This was not a boy, though, this was a man. A hot--ruggedly handsome man, who had a lot of life-experience under his belt (and probably something much more tasty beyond it) She giggled softly, as that thought went through her mind. _Naughty Girl_.

Danny tried not to look at Ashley's fingertip as she moved it up her leg, but he was a man--a red blooded man--who enjoyed the game as much as the pleasure that would follow. He knew that if this were some girl--an older girl--he would play along and get the reward at the end of the night. But he had to remind himself that this girl was barely legal--and part of an open murder investigation. He might not of played along with her game--even for a second--if he had not been angry with Lindsay. He knew, deep down, that he was being unprofessional by letting the girl think--even for a second--that he was interested in her. Or that he enjoyed her sexual advances, no matter how blatantly subtle they might have been.

But he wanted to piss Lindsay off because she was being completely ridiculous about the Montana thing. The nerve of her to go behind his back and talk to Flack about everything that she was going through--hiding from everyone around her--and leave him there in the dark, like some Love-sick fool. Danny only wanted her to feel foolish, even if for only a moment. Especially after he'd gone all the way to Montana to sit right beside her inside that court room, holding her hand, being there for her, being her friend. He'd thought that was what she'd wanted from him. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe she'd rather had Don with her.

He knew it was mean of him to be acting like come junior high schooler, but he couldn't help the way he felt. He just wanted retribution for what she was putting him through. Make her squirm a bit under the cold stare of ridicule. He cut his ice blue eyes over to Lindsay. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, staring daggers at the oblivious girl across from her as did so.

"You're too hot to be a cop," Ashley continued, not moving her eyes from Danny's face. She bit her lip, her eyes betraying her, showing that it was lust she was trying to hide behind them.

"Ash! Stop actin' like a slut!" Michelle cut into her friend's fun. "Alice is dead."

"Like I don't know, Michelle!" Ashley turned to her friend, and stared at her, a cold look over her soft features.

"Then, do us all a favor and stop hitting on the nice policeman," Michelle told her through gritted teeth.

"Look at him, Michelle." Ashley whined as she turned her attention back on Danny. "He's like sex-candy."

Danny cleared his throat, glancing back at Lindsay. He had enjoyed the attention from the young girl, at first, but now it wasn't as flattering as it had been only moments earlier. Now it was border-line stalking. So wrong. He pleaded silently for Lindsay jump in at any time with his eyes. She just smiled sweetly at him with a shrug. She knew he had let things go too far. He would have to fix it himself.

"Miss, as flattered as I am that you find me to be..." It was hard for Danny to admit. "You find me attractive, this is a serious police matter. I have to conduct this with professionalism. Do you understand?" Danny asked, staring into the young girl's face.

She nodded.

"Good." He reach up and rubbed his chin. When he noticed the excited look creeping over Ashley's face once more, he stopped. He turned to the other two girls. "You three were friends with Chloe Philips?"

Michelle glanced over at Kris, who had not spoken since the two Detectives had arrived. She began to sob lightly. Her shoulders heaving uncontrollably beneath her sweater.

"We were Alice's best friends..." Michelle whispered, reaching over to comfort Kris.

"Where were you two nights ago, between midnight and 2 a.m.?" Danny continued, keeping his eyes on Michelle as he spoke.

"Um, we were here. Working on some acting material of our own," she answered, not moving her eyes from Danny's set.

"Alice wasn't part of the project?" Danny grinned. "Thought you guys were BFF."

Michelle's face fell. "We are--We were. Alice was our best friend. If it hadn't have been for her wild dreams, we wouldn't be here. We'd be going to some community college."

"Why wasn't Alice in the project?" Lindsay asked.

Danny gave her an odd look. Better late than never, she had always thought.

Michelle sighed. "It's Indie. It was Alice's movie. I mean, she planned on being in it. She was the one the director really wanted. Lo and behold, Erin got her way--AGAIN!"

"There's that name again. Erin a ghost or somethin'?" Danny grinned.

"We'd never get that lucky..." Ashley mumbled.

"Ash!" Michelle snapped.

"What?" she demanded, turning to her friend.

Michelle glared back at her.

"What? You know you hate her just as much as me and Kris," Ashley answered, folding her arms.

"You hate Erin?"

"Not really--"

"That's such a lie, Michelle, and you know it!" Ashley cut in.

"Let Michelle answer the questions, Ashley. God! You're just makin' it worse," Kris spoke, her voice cracking.

Ashley set back once more in a huff, obviously out-numbered.

"Continue Miss Lehman," Lindsay coaxed.

"OK. I didn't trust Erin--None of us did." Michelle glanced from Ashley back to Kris. "I guess I never really liked her much. She just showed up one day, out of the blue. She instantly became best friends with Alice and tried to be our friend, too. But Ash, Kris, and me? We saw right through her. God, even Bucky saw her for the phony that she was. But Alice was a nice girl. She wanted to make everyone happy. She didn't want to leave anyone out. So, she let Erin hang out with us when we went out to events or just vegged out here. She just--Couldn't say no to her. But we all knew what Erin was really up to. She just wanted what she could get off of Alice. Ya know? That was all Erin wanted--A way in."

"Ain't that what you guys are doin'?" Danny asked, seriously.

"No. Alice wanted us to be in this movie with her. She asked the director if we could do it. She told him that if he didn't let us in, too, she would walk. That was the way Alice was. She wanted everyone to have a chance. She knew that Ash, Kris, and I wanted to be in the movies, too. She knew that. We all dreamed of it," Michelle explained.

"But she made it, didn't she? And you three haven't..." Lindsay told them.

"That's not it at all. We got the parts. This is our chance. Why would we be angry with Alice?" Michelle whispered.

The three girls were quiet for a moment.

"What about Erin?" Lindsay asked, breaking the silence this time.

"What about her?" Michelle asked.

"Did she get to be in your lil movie?"

Michelle glanced over to Ashley, who offered nothing, then to Kris. There was a look in her tear-rimmed eyes, that made Michelle go on. Danny and Lindsay both saw it. They knew something.

"Erin wasn't slated to be in the movie. Only us. When she found out that Alice had not pleaded with the director to include her, she went ballistic. She told us that we were just using Alice to further our own careers. She said that Alice was tired of always having to put in a good word for us with the directors or photographers she worked with. We all knew it was just her jealousy--Not really Alice who had felt this way. So, when she didn't get her way, she went to Alice and talked her out of doing it, too. I'm not sure why Alice listened to her, but she did. And that's why we were here, alone, rehearsing our lines--And Alice was on that bridge," Michelle explained.

Danny glanced over to Lindsay. She nodded.

"Does Erin have a last name?" he asked as he pulled out a notepad and pen.

"Fowler," Michelle answered. Danny jotted the name down.

"Can you tell us where to get in touch with Miss Fowler?"

"Try her Dad's place on 112th Street. Her step-mom's a monster, but she'll tell ya if she's there or not," Michelle told him.

Danny jotted that information down as well.

"Ladies, would you mind telling me where you got those shoes?" Lindsay asked, eying the shoes they were wearing.

"Alice got them for us... Last Christmas." Kris whispered, her face scrunching up as she spoke.

"Why?" Ashley finished.

Lindsay didn't answer her question, instead she continued with her own questioning. "Did she buy Erin a pair, too?"

"No. Just us," Ashley answered quickly.

"Does this have something to do with Alice's death?" Michelle asked, turning toward Danny as she spoke.

Danny chewed his bottom lip. He nodded.

"Did you find a pair at the scene or something?" Ashley asked, her voice rising a little.

"We can't release that information to you, Miss. I'm sorry," Lindsay told her.

Danny hated what he had to request next. "Do you mind if Detective Monroe and I take them for a little while? We'll get them back to you."

"Why do you need our shoes?" Ashley asked, turning her own attention on Danny, hoping he would fill her in where Lindsay had not.

"I can't tell ya. I just have to take them into the lab. Do you understand?" Danny asked.

The three girls looked at one another. Was that panic in their eyes? Guilt? Fear?

"They need 'em, Girls. We have to cooperate," Michelle told them, softly.

"But Alice gave them to us, Michelle. We just can't--" Kris sobbed.

"I know, Kris. But if this will help find who murdered Alice, then we have to turn them over to the police," Michelle told her.

That was all it took, the three girls gave the shoes to Danny and Lindsay without protest. The Detectives promised to return them later and they left the house in search of Erin Fowler.

i hope ya like what i have written so far. i promise, it's almost to the end. soon ya'll will find out who killed Chloe Phillips & why. i had some trouble with my computer over the weekend or this chapter would've been posted sooner. but it's up now & i'm still not 100 percent sure how i feel about my characterization in this one. ah, well. as long as ya'll like it, right??


	9. Chapter 8

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

summary: a lil insight into the relationship b/t danny & abby while he & mac were down in miami, working a case with horatio & his team, 2 yrs ago.

pairing(s): hints of past relationship b/t danny & abby, my OC.

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny, csi:miami, other miami/ny characters or danny messer. they belong to cbs & zuiker & co. i do own abby walker & pumpkin, tho.

**author's note:** i'm glad tht ya'll are liking my story :) this was the 1st csi:ny story i ever wrote, as ya kno, so i've been a lil nervous about posting. i hope ya'll enjoy this chapter as well. i like tht it is a flash-back chapter. ya get to see abby & danny interact b4 lindsay came to new york to work, hehe. as always, plz R/R cos feedback is love!! the next chapter will pick up the investigation in new york. ciao.

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**Chapter 8**

_**Two Years Ago**_

It was a warm day in mid September.

This was to be Danny's last day in Miami. The next morning, he and Mac would be heading back to New York City. But for a few hours, yet, Danny was going to remain in Florida and that meant for a few more hours, he would be all Abby's--to do whatever she pleased with him. And she was going to enjoy every moment they had left.

The case had been solved. Marshall Griffin was already on his way back to New York, where he'd be serving two consecutive life-sentences for the crimes he had committed between New York City and Miami; the two of them had been granted a day off. Abby usually didn't take advantage of time off, because that meant that she wouldn't be in the lab testing samples or in her office milling over case-files that she had long ago forgotten about in order to put the dots together in her latest case. But when she had found out that it would be a full day with Mr. Danny Messer--then, well, she just couldn't help herself! (She owed it to herself to spend the day with him...)

He had requested her, after all. Horatio had not left that part out when he had told her that she was to escort him around the city. For some unknown reason, Danny wanted to see everything there was to see in Miami. Sun--Sand--and Surf... And he wanted to do it with Abby Walker by his side.

She obliged, pretending that it meant absolutely nothing to her that he had wanted her to specifially take him on the tour of her home-town. She couldn't help but smile, to herself, when Natalia and Calleigh had seen him meet her at the front entrance to Miami-Dade Crime Lab. The envy in their eyes was enough to satisfy Abby for years to come. She knew she had Danny--hook, line, and sinker--and she was not too proud to parade it around in her friends' faces.

The pool had been set, early in the introduction of the two CSIs, on how many days it would take the two of them to fall for one another. Cooper had started it, mostly as a joke, but as the days passed and tension rose between the two of them, it looked as if there might be some truth to the rumors, after all.

Calleigh had bet it would take a week.

Wolfe said three days, tops.

Natalia had speculated that it would be during the first weekend.

Valera agreed, saying that she'd not be able to resist him.

Delko had grinned when he chose twenty-four hours.

Cooper had said it would happen five minutes after the two of them left the prying eyes of Horatio Caine and Mac Taylor.

And Abby? Well, Abby had told them that nothing was going to happen between the two of them, because they did not know each other and she was not that easy. Truthfully, she had wanted to be alone with him from the first moment she lay eyes on the sexy boy from New York with that annoying accent. Now, she had her chance. Good thing she had gone by the lounge and chosen this particular day before Danny had arrived for their "date" that morning. Yep, Abby had decided she would get the last laugh when it came to her and Danny's budding relationship, not her partners. Besides, the pool was up to 300 and she needed the cash.

When Danny had arrived at the station, she greeted him with a sweet smile. She reach out and took his arm, tugging him along like you would a small child, he had not resisted her in the least, and she liked that feeling of control. She glanced over her shoulder at Valera and Natalia, who both stared back at them, their mouths opened slightly revealing the jealousy that they were trying their hardest to conceal.

Abby showed him everything Miami had to offer. He acted amazed: oohing and awwing over the smallest of things. He compared most everything to New York, though, swearing it was better up there. He had told her several times throughout the course of their day that she needed to come up to New York and see for herself. He told her about all the places she would just love to visit if she loved what she saw in Miami. Abby had laughed when he made his comments on New York, because he had sounded so serious and looked so darn cute when he had turned and grinned at her.

They held hands as they walked down the board-walk, by shops that sold CD's, puka-shell jewelary, and sunglasses. His hand was soft to the touch, but he held her own in a firm grip as if he were telling her he would never let her go. She had let herself get lost in the moments that they shared. They ate on the board-walk: hotdogs that Danny had complained about because they were called _New York Style_. He had assured Abby that those were definitely not New York Style hotdogs and that whoever advertised such a travesty should be shot.

After they had soaked up the live entertainment down by the waterfront, Abby had taken Danny to her favorite spot. It was a couple miles up from the board-walk. Just a sandy beach with a stunning view; kind of secluded which gave them plenty of privacy. It was not late, but the twilight was settling down on the two of them and for the first time, in a very long time, she did not care. She wanted Danny Messer all to herself and she was going to succeed in her venture, even if that meant being out after dark.

They had set down on a grassy knoll just up from where the water met the sand. The salt from the ocean drifted about them in a cloud of exstacy.

Danny stared out at the ocean, knees up, resting his elbows on them. He had on a pair of light colored jeans, ripped at the knee, and a black t-shirt with a band name on it that Abby did not recognize. His dirty blond hair was tossled about his head from the wind. He did not wear his glasses like Abby had become accostumed to--instead, he held a pair of sunglasses high on his head. He was barefoot now, because he had taken off his flip-flops, which he had been wearing for the day. He had told her that he never got to wear them in New York, and that he was going to take full advantage of the fact that it was September and flip-flops were a kind of pre-requisite when in Miami.

Abby had slipped on her own pair of flip-flops that morning, worn in well, but had now kicked off, reaching her toes out to the sand and letting them move over the cool surface. She wore a thin white shirt with a hoodie, a matching white speghetti strapped shirt underneath it, and a pair of capris. She felt comfortable enough around Danny that she could just relax and be herself. She didn't have to dress up for him. He liked that she was simple. She wore her dark hair pinned back in the middle, letting most of it fall down about her shoulders. She didn't wear make up because this was something she rarely ever did, unless it was absolutely necessary.

"This is amazin'," came Danny's voice from her right.

Abby nodded, feeling the excitement in the pit of her stomach. "I told you it was."

Danny licked his lips. "Yeah. But I didn't believe you."

Abby nudged him playfully.

"What?" he laughed, trying to rebalance himself.

"You think I'd lie to you, Messer?"

Danny shrugged, cutting his blue eyes over to her, mysteviously. Abby was still moving her toes over the cold sand, enjoying the feeling of it between them and enjoying the banter she was sharing with this perfect boy.

Abby shook her head, avoiding his eyes. "You're lucky I'm not packin' heat."

"Are you threatin' my life, Walker?" Danny challenged.

"Maybe..."

Danny turned back to the ocean. A thoughtful expression came over his handsome face. "You think the Heavens are out there, watchin' us?"

Abby shivered beneath the cold wind that had suddenly started to blow around them. She tucked her legs beneath her as she fixed her own eyes on the ocean. "I like to think so. Why?"

"Sometimes I stare out at the sky in New York and I don't see anything beautiful..."

"Not like this, huh?" Abby asked, slowly.

Danny bit his bottom lip. "No. Not like this."

Abby leaned over to him, resting her head on his shoulder. He didn't move away. He smelled clean and fresh. She liked the way he smelled. She wanted to taste him, because she was sure that he would taste a hundred times better than he smelled.

"I'm not going to shoot you, Danny..." she whispered, against his shoulder.

"Everybody wants to shoot me, Abby. I'm used to it by now."

"Oh? You're a bad-boy?" she asked, trying to hide her smile. Abby had always had a soft spot for bad-boys.

Danny shrugged. "I've had my moments."

They set in silence for a moment. They listened to the waves as they crashed on the rocks just over from them. They listened to the kids that were laughing and having a good time just beyond the rocks. They listened to each other breath.

"I'm glad I met you," Danny whispered.

"Me, too."

"You goin' a miss me?"

Abby nodded. "I will."

"I'll miss you, too," Danny told her softly.

He lay back then, settling in the grass. For a moment, Abby didn't move. She missed his scent, but she said nothing about it. She didn't want to complain. He reach up and tugged her down next to him, as if he knew she was missing him already. Abby lay her head down on his chest, as he intertwined his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes, letting herself inhale him once more, feeling his chest as it rose up and down to the rhythm of his own heart-beat. Abby was content for once in her life. Danny had his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head--fingers still in her hair.

"The sky is so clear here," Danny breathed.

"I know. I couldn't imagine the way it looks anywhere else," Abby answered.

"I think I've fallin' in love with Miami," he told her.

"It's easy to do," she agreed.

Danny nodded, but said nothing as he did so. Abby stretched against him, suddenly. Danny liked the feel of her body against his own. She was warm and smelled of coconut. Her breath was even against the skin of his arm. It almost sounded like she was purring over his chest, and he had to admit, he liked it very much This was a nice feeling, Danny thought, having someone in his arms like this and not having to worry about her giving him a headache. Abby was special. She was pleasant and he liked how easy it was to talk to her. There was a real connection taking place between the two of them.

Abby's dark eyes began to close as she lay with her head on Danny's chest, just above his heart. She was drifting off into sleep, between the haze of awoken reality and dream fantasy. She didn't want to let go of this feeling she was feeling deep within her soul. She wanted to hang on to it for as long as she possibly could. He was warm, but more than just a man who happened to be lying beneath her. He was someone she could see herself with forever.

"You think you could ever move from here?" Danny cut into her bliss.

Abby opened her eyes, fighting the need to sleep, and moved against his hip. He felt something perk to life inside of him, but he tried to ignore the excitement that ran through his body when she had subconciously rubbed against him. This was more than sexual what he and Abby shared. He wasn't going to ruin this connection, just because his body was screaming something entirely different should be taking place.

"I dunno. Maybe."

Danny smiled to himself. "To New York?" he ventured.

Abby turned herself toward him, pushing her hand against his chest to prop her chin up on. Danny moved his hand down her back, settling just at the base of her spine. She stared up at him for a moment. She wanted to remember his face: his nose, his chin, his cheeks, his lips, his eyes, his forehead, his jawl line, and his ears. She wanted to remember everything about him. He smiled at her. She melted.

"Ya think ya could?" he coaxed.

"You want me to?" she shot back.

He shrugged. "A Southern girl in the big bad city? It never ends happy."

"That's true." She moved up to his face. She bit her bottom lip as she stared down at him, pure innocence in her eyes. "You really gonna miss me, Messer?"

He nodded, not moving his eyes from her face.

"You wanna kiss me?" she asked, sounding more like an innocent child than ever.

"What if I do?" he shot back.

"I dunno. You have to tell me if you want to, first," Abby whispered, moving her fingertips over the words that were written on Danny's t-shirt.

"Is this for real?" he chuckled.

"I think it might be."

"You want me to, Walker?" Danny asked, after a moment, his blue eyes full of mystief.

Abby shrugged. "You think you're man enough to do it?"

"I think I might be."

"Then... What's stoppin' ya?" Abby asked, her dark eyes flashing, all innocence melting from her face.

Danny grinned at her for a moment. He wasn't sure if he should really make a move on her. She might have been bluffing. She was, after all, a criminal profiler and that was her job, to get inside people's heads and make them break. She could have been teasing him. But was it worth the humiliation to taste her? Danny thought about it for a moment and came to the conclusion that it was!

He didn't warn her of his intentions as he grabbed her wrist and pinned her down beneath him on the grass. Her dark eyes widened with both shock and excitement as he did this. He pushed his weight down on her, being careful not to hurt her. He grinned down at her, wickedly. She bit her bottom lip, passion in her eyes as she stared back up at him. He leaned down, slowly. He brushed his lips against her own, without pressing them into a kiss. She pushed herself up to him, his hands still pinning her own down above her head, and tried to kiss him back. She whimpered beneath him when he did not return her gesture. Instead, he nuzzled his nose against her face.

"How ya doin'?" he whispered against her cheek--his accent thick.

"Hey, there," she whispered back, in her sweet Southern drawl.

He moved his lips over her face, slowly. She closed her eyes, inhaling him as he did this. She wanted to touch his hair, his face--every part of him. She could have sworn he read her mind just then, because at that moment, he unpinned her arms. She leaned into him, her lips brushing against his ear lobe. Danny pressed his mouth against her neck, letting his tongue flick out and linger there for a moment. A groan escaped from his mouth as he did this. She tasted sweeter than he had ever imagined a woman could taste. Her sweetness was not just from personality, it was all over her.

When he pulled back to look at her, she took the opportunity to reach up and brush her fingertips over his face. "Prickly."

Danny wiggled his head a little to the side as if to say, _I know_.

"I like it."

"Most women do..." he told her with a grin.

Abby leaned up and licked at his chin.

"Easy now..." he told her.

Abby smiled, seductively. She reach up and tugged at his hair as she did this. He listened to her silent plea, and leaned down to her lips once more. This time, he kissed her, really kissed her! It was slow and passionate. Sweet and wanting. They both wanted to taste each other--completely. They fought to hang onto the moment, both of their mouths opening wider as they tugged on one another for more. They kissed for a long moment, tongues exploring the crevises entirely as they did so, barely breathing--both moaning into one another because they so desperately wanted more.

The flesh wanted what the flesh wanted. Danny gently pushed her legs apart beneath him. Abby did not fight; she let him do this. Her breath quickened into a slow gasp as he pushed his knee into her. She ground back into him, wanting to feel more. As Danny did this, causing her head to spin with extasy, his hand moved up to her left boob. He moved his hand over it and felt the globe as it came to life, through the material of her shirt, beneath his touch. Following suit, Abby's hand moved from his hair, which she had been tugging on the entire time, down his side and to his belt buckle. She was just unbuckling it, when Danny's mind snapped from the haze that had settled over them and back to reality. Instinctively, they both knew that it would not be right to give into the temptation that was floating through the air. But Danny was the first to break away. He relunctantly removed his hand from her breast, then, reach down and moved her hand away from his belt buckle. He said nothing as he pulled back from Abby and stared down at her. She tried to reach up for him once more when she realized what he was doing, but he stopped her.

"What's wrong?" she asked, pouting.

"This is--I couldn't ask for anything better than this... But--"

"But what?"

"If we don't stop now, Abby. We'll end up doing something we'll both regret in the morning."

"No. No, we won't," Abby pulled him toward her once more.

He let her lips move over his own, but he did not kiss her back. She pulled back when she saw that he wasn't participating.

"Don't you want me, Danny?"

Danny chuckled. "God," he whispered as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. "You make me so hot, Walker. It's not the lack of wanting you, believe me."

Abby smiled up at him. "You want me?"

Danny tilted his head to the side. "You know I do."

"Then why are you trying to push me away?" she asked, feeling uneasy.

Danny brushed a piece of her dark hair back from her forehead. "You know why. I'm leavin' tomorrow. New York is a million miles from here."

"But I want you to be happy," Abby whispered. "I want you to remember your visit."

Danny smiled down at her. "I'll remember. How could I not? You brought me here."

Abby sighed, heavily, reaching up and pushing her hand against his cheek. "I like you."

"I like you, too."

"I wish you didn't have to leave tomorrow."

"Me, too."

"You'll forget me," Abby told him, matter-of-factly.

Danny shook his head. "Hey. No, I won't. I'll never forget you."

"You say that now, but when you get back to New York and have all of those beautiful women falling all over you, you'll forget all about me." Abby looked away as she spoke.

"You just want me to feel sorry for you, Walker. That's not attractive."

Abby looked up at him. He understood her. She felt it when she looked into his soft eyes. "Promise me."

"What?"

"That you'll never forget me."

"I promise."

"You mean that?"

Danny bit his bottom lip. "Promise me you'll never forget me, huh?"

"I promise."

"Ya mean that?"

Abby bit her bottom lip this time. "I do."

"Then, you can't question me."

She laughed softly beneath him. After a moment, she lay her head back and stared up at the sky over-head. Danny rolled off of her and buckled his belt back. He lay beside her, once more, only inches from her warm wanting body.

"You think this is perfection?" Abby asked after a moment.

"I think it might be..." Danny answered, reaching over and taking her hand. He kissed it, then, pulled Abby over to him once more, wrapping his arms around her as he did so. She was perfection, as far as he was concerned...

...

Abby opened her eyes and set up.

She glanced over at the clock on the wall--it was almost five. It was raining outside her living room window. The sound of the rain against the windowsill sounded nice and soothing to Abby's ears. She wanted to go back to sleep, but she had things to do. She pulled herself up from the couch and rubbed her eyes.

She had come home from the Crime Lab and been reading over some New York material that Horatio had given to her. She had fallen asleep on the couch, which she rarely ever did. She had been dreaming about Danny Messer--their last day together. She wondered if things would be the same as they had been before. She wondered if she and Danny would just pick up right where they had left off. She hoped so. She hadn't really put her life on hold, to wait for him, she had just been taking things as they came. She had never really been the kind of girl who dated a lot, so that had not been a far stretch on her part to maintain.

Abby had double dated with Calleigh a couple times, but nothing had ever really come of the effort. The men that she had met through the newest beau that Calleigh was seeing had been nice enough--cute and smart and funny--but lacking something--understanding, maybe. The only man she had ever seemed to have found it with was Danny and he was so far away. She and Natalia weren't as close as she and Calleigh were, but she had gone out for drinks with her a few times and tried to meet potential suitors. But the bar-scene just wasn't something that Abby liked to partake in. Even went to a wedding with Valera, when she'd not had a date, in hopes of meeting a cute single friend of the family. No luck.

She and Wolfe had eaten lunch together a couple times; so had she and Cooper, but they were just her friends, nothing romantic there. Delko had made a play--early on--and she had let him down gently, because really he just wasn't her type. He was too self-involved to really take the time to care for a woman's true needs. He wasn't a bad guy, by any means, just too much maintaince, she had felt.

Danny was the man Abby dreamed of. The man she wanted to be with. He was the one she thought about every day and longed for every night. He was her soul-mate and she knew this. But sometimes, she had found throughout her life, you might have a soul-mate and he might be the perfect fit for you, but that didn't mean that it was the perfect time for you two to embark on a journey together. No, she had to settle for waiting. Danny would be hers soon enough. She just hoped he was still waiting for her when she arrived in New York City. That was what kept Abby Walker sane these days--knowing that he was still there--and she was going to be there, too.

Abby stretched. It felt good to do that, letting the tension leave her body as she did so. She turned and padded through the house, in search of something to eat. She decided on a sandwich, because all she could seem to find was ham and cheese in her refridgerator. She took the plate back into the livingroom and set it down on her coffee table. The scratch from the door had made her instinctively move toward it instead of sitting down on the couch to enjoy her meal. Pumpkin greeted her with a smack of her lips and saschayed into the apartment. Just as Abby was about to close the door and lock it back, a hand grabbed the side of it and stopped her. She looked up, fear gripping every inch of her body and stared into the two ocean colored eyes she hoped she'd never see again for as long as she lived.

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dumdumdum. wonder who's at the front door...?


	10. Chapter 9

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

summary: danny & lindsay question erin fowler about her relationship with the vic. meanwhile, abby has an unwelcome visitor.

pairing(s): none yet.

rating: **M**, just to be safe.

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny, csi:miami, or the characters. they belong to zuiker & company over at cbs. i do however own abby walker.

**author's note:** all mistakes are mine. i take full responsibilty for em.

**author's note pt2: **while i was proof reading this chapter, i was also IMing my bff, so i got a bit distracted. sorry if anything doesn't make sense, lol. plz R/R. feedback is love!! :)

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**Chapter 9**

Erin Fowler was a pretty girl by her own right.

She was petite with cherry colored hair that was cut short to her face. Her eyes were a deep set of blue and she had Angelina Jolie lips. None of this made sense. Danny and Lindsay had expected to meet an over weight girl with greasy hair, pimples, and very low self-esteem. But she was the total opposite of that. She was confident, pretty, in shape, and didn't have a blemish on her face. Why did she need to follow Alice Langston around like some kind of lap-dog, hoping to be noticed?

The two Detectives set across from her at the small plastic table, next to the indoor pool. Erin was wearing a bikini and nothing else.

"You know why we're here, don't cha, Erin?" Danny asked.

She smiled. "You talked to Michelle, Ash, and Kris--didn't ya?"

Danny nodded.

"They don't like me. Did they tell ya that?" she continued.

Danny nodded once more.

"I bet you was a looker in high school," she turned her attention to Lindsay.

Lindsay shifted uncomfortably. She glanced over to Danny who offered nothing in return much as she had when he had been hit on by Ashley DuGray.

"Com'n. You're so pretty--simple, yes--but pretty. I bet all the boys were after ya," Erin continued, not moving her eyes from Lindsay as she spoke.

Lindsay cleared her throat. "I was average looking, I guess."

"Modest girl. You're not from here, are ya?"

Lindsay shook her head. "Montana, actually."

Erin nodded, thoughtfully. "Now, we know why she's so modest," she turned to Danny.

Danny nodded in agreement.

Erin licked her thick lips. "You're from here. I can tell."

Danny tilted his head. "I am."

"You have that look about ya. I bet you've broken a few hearts in yo time, huh?"

He glanced over to Lindsay. "A few, I guess."

"Uh, I see what's goin' on here. You two have somethin' brewin'."

"We have nothing brewin'!" Lindsay cut in, her annoyance showing over her face.

Erin set back, putting her hand up. "He's hot, I don't blame ya."

"Miss, this is an investigation into a murder. Do you understand what that means?" Lindsay asked, keeping her composure as she spoke.

Erin nodded.

"Then, would you be so kind as not to hit on my partner while we're trying to ask you questions?" she demanded, her voice rising slightly as she spoke.

Erin grinned. "I think it boosts his ego."

"I think you need to stop--now!" Lindsay shouted.

Danny put his hand up. "Ladies. Corners."

Lindsay and Erin looked at him: Lindsay looked annoyed; Erin looked amused.

After a moment, the younger woman reach into her bag and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Do you mind?"

Lindsay said nothing and Danny shook his head.

Erin took the cigarette out and lit it. She took a slow drag, closing her eyes as she did so. She opened them after a moment and smiled at Danny who was still watching her. Lindsay had turned her attention to the pool, her arms crossed over her chest.

"Want one?" Erin asked, gesturing the pack to Danny.

Any other time he would have taken one, but he didn't want to over-step his bounds. Lindsay had taken Ashley's blatant flirtation with him quite well, but with Erin, it was different somehow. She didn't trust this girl and she didn't like that was trying to be sweet as pie to Danny. Like, he would just break down and do whatever she wanted. Cha, right. That was not the way Danny Messer played the game.

"No, thanks," Danny waved them away. He wanted one, but he wasn't about to piss Lindsay off any more than she already was.

Erin shrugged as she took another puff of her cigarette. "You got questions?" she asked, after a moment.

Danny glanced over to Lindsay. "You want me to take this?"

She nodded, standing up and walking across the room to the entrance. After she left the two of them alone, Danny turned back to Erin.

"Oh, something I said?"

"Cut the shit, Erin."

"You talk to all the girls that way?" she shot back.

Danny chuckled. "Only the ones that get under my skin."

"Mission accomplished..." Erin laughed.

"Hardly." Danny pulled the picture of Chloe Phillips out and set it on the table top. "You know her?"

"That's Alice. Yeah. I know her."

"You seen her in the last few days?"

"A couple nights ago, I guess. We went up to our spot with Bucky."

"You and Alice have a spot?" Danny asked, cocking an eye brow up.

Erin smiled slowly. She took one last puff of her cigarette then ground it out on the table top. "You know what they say, love is blind."

"You and Alice were--"

"Sorta."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

"That means, Detective, that we liked each others company. I liked her. She liked me. Bucky liked us both," she answered.

Danny nodded, slowly. "I see. You three were really good friends."

"Friends with benefits."

"Um... Yeah... So, tell me about the night on the bridge," he coaxed.

"We went up there to get high. We had been drinking some, I guess, and that just wasn't doin' it for us. We needed something a lot more fun to do. We had never had sex in the park, so we went there to do that. Anyway, Bucky passed out before we really got the party started, ya know? All I know is that one minute we were all three in the car, having a good time, getting all hot and what have ya, and the next, I was passed out, too. That's all I remember. I woke up and Alice wasn't in the car, I just figured she decided to walk home, because she did this a lot. And I drove Bucky to Maurice's. That's all I know," Erin explained.

Danny nodded, unsure. "Quick question: you sure, you didn't hear anything?"

Erin's eyes blazed. "I told ya that I didn't. I passed out. I was taking X."

"The tox came back positive on Alice that she was only drinking and smokin' pot."

Erin sighed as she reach up and scratched her eye brow. "Alice wasn't into X."

"Bucky take any?"

"He gave it to me... Probably..."

"Why wasn't Ashley, Michelle, and Kris with you guys?" Danny asked, even though he already knew the answer.

"Alice was gettin' real tired of the three of them. Ash wants a boob job, Michelle wants a nose job, and Kris wants lypo. Alice told them she was against plastic surgery, but they wouldn't listen. They were hell-bent on getting the work done and wouldn't take no for an answer. She didn't want them to come along. They were crampin' her style, if you catch my drift," Erin told him.

"Oh... Yeah... I guess so..."

"Well, all I know is what I heard."

Danny nodded.

"You need anything else?" Erin asked, sweetly.

Danny glanced over at a bag that was lying next to the window, a silver colored strap sticking out of it. "Those your clothes?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"I need to take your shoes," he answered.

"Ooh. Kinky," Erin giggled.

Danny blushed, even though he knew better. "I can't disclose any information right now, but I need them for the investigation."

"Oh. Sure," she reach over and picked the bag up. She set it down on the table top and pulled out the sparkling silver shoes that were very similar to the ones he had gotten from Michelle, Ashley, and Kris. "Here ya go."

Danny took the shoes, noting the broken heal that was sticking up from the bag. He reach in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, pretending to check it for messages, as he took a quick picture of the broken heel. Erin didn't notice him do this.

"Break a heel? Bummer..." Danny pushed his cell phone back into his pocket as he spoke.

Erin looked down, noticing the heel for the first time; she proceeded to push it back into her bag. Still oblivious to Danny snapping the picture to have Adam look over when he and Lindsay got back to the lab.

"Yeah. It sucks." Erin smiled sweetly. "I just--I meant to throw it away. The shoe was a total loss."

Danny nodded, putting the shoes in a paper bag he had brought along. After a moment, he stood up. "Thanks for your time, Miss Fowler. I'll get these shoes back to ya as soon as possible," he told her, putting on the charm.

Erin stood up and smiled at Danny. He noticed for the first time that she had her belly button pierced. He couldn't help, but stare at it. There was just something about a girl with a belly ring that got Danny to take notice. Such a barbaric ritual, he had often thought, but that was a contradiction in itself, because he couldn't help but find it to be equally as hot.

"Like it?" Erin asked, noticing his stare.

Danny looked up. "Sorry." He was blushing now. "It's nice. Did it hurt?"

She fingered the dangling dragonfly that hung from her belly button. "Just a little bit."

Danny nodded as he stepped around the table.

"You and that Montana girl really together?" Erin asked, eying him sheepishly.

"We're friends," Danny answered, even though he didn't have to indulge any information to her.

Erin nodded. She reach out and touched his chest, softly. "You ever wanna have a fun time, call me, Big Boy."

Danny snickered. "Tempting. But I don't think so."

Erin pushed her hands against her hips as if to say: _You don't know what you're missing_. Danny ignored her advances and headed across the room to Lindsay. When he got to her, she smiled at him.

"Cooled off?" he asked as he opened the door.

Lindsay glanced over her shoulder, at the girl who was now wading into the pool. "She just irked me."

"You didn't like her flirtin' with me," Danny told her as they headed up the stairs.

"I just--"

"Oh, ya find me irresistible. I know, Montana," Danny grinned.

"I do not!"

"You're jealous, Montana. Admit it," he told her, playfully.

"You got hit on by two girls half your age, Danny, in a matter of twenty-four hours, come on."

"You're so jealous, Montana."

"You wish."

"It's sweet," Danny told her, as he opened the door to the parking garage.

"Get over yourself, Danny. Really. If you think I'm jealous of those girls, then you're due a rude awakening."

Danny smirked at her. "It's nice to see you're not taking advantage of the situation at all."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, think about it, Montana, if you were the kind of girl who got off on this kinda thing, you'd milk it for all it's worth," he answered.

"This does not get me off, Danny. I think it gets you off."

"Having girls half my age hit on me?" he asked.

Lindsay nodded.

"That's perverted, Montana." He paused for a moment. "You're not to talk to Flack anymore."

"Is that right?" she asked, stifling a laugh.

"Yeah. I don't like the influence he has on ya."

"Afraid he'll tell me your deep dark secrets, huh?" Lindsay smiled back, innocently.

Danny thought about that for a moment. "Don does have a big mouth."

Lindsay laughed at him as they headed across the parking area to their black SUV. All the anger she had felt toward him about his possessiveness over her when it came to her talking to Flack and the fact that he was actually enjoying the fact that two young girls had found him attractive, had somehow melted away. Danny had that effect on people, he could make you fighting mad, then, turn around, and just smile at you, causing all the frustration you felt toward him to just melt away in a single swoop. He was so charming--even when he didn't mean to be--and it came through so easily at times.

"You wanna join me for a sandwich after we drop this off at the lab?" Danny asked, as he opened the driver's side door.

Lindsay climbed into the passenger's side. "Sure," she agreed as she buckled her seat belt.

Danny turned the key and the cab filled with the Rolling Stones. Lindsay groaned.

"What?" Danny asked with a grin, pretending he didn't know what the groan was about.

"Nothing. Just drive," she answered as he backed the truck out of the parking space. No more fighting.

...

Abby tried to close the door, but he grabbed the side of it and forced it back.

She gasped, her head spinning, as she stumbled back from the force of the push he had inflicted on her. Her face paled as she watched him stroll into her apartment like he owned it. It had been five years since she'd last seen this man. Five years of hiding and he had found her. Five years, that felt like a lifetime ago.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" she demanded, her stomach churning.

His eyes softened a bit. "Now, is that any way to greet an old friend?"

His accent was the same. Slow and Southern like a Georgia stream. It had once excited her to hear him speak, now it made her skin crawl. Abby stepped back once more. The room was no longer spinning. She took him in for the first time: he was still tall, still had muddy-river colored hair and ocean colored eyes, still had some kind of spark about him, but he looked older somehow, mostly in his face--what she could see of it beneath the tattered baseball cap he wore.

"You're not my friend..." Abby reminded him through gritted teeth.

He chuckled. "That's right. I was a Lover."

Abby swallowed hard. He was right. Damn him she may, but he was right. His name was Brady Hooper. He was a lot older now, mid thirties, but back in the day--10 or so years ago, to be exact--he had been Abby Walker's boyfriend, her one and only! Sure, she had just been a kid (barely 18) and he had been well into his twenties, but it was love. At least, that was what Abby had thought at the time. Now, she knew that she was just blind. She was blinded by someone who was evil. She had sworn to never be that foolish again. He had lived more in twenty years than she had lived in her entire life. He had gone to prison and she had decided right then and there that she would never be with him again, no matter what line he tried to use to seduce her back into his world.

"Brady, I want you to leave," Abby whispered.

Brady grinned, ignoring her pleas. "You were not easy to find, Abby. When you wanna disappear--Damn, Girl, you disappear."

Abby smirked at him. "I like to be a mystery."

"Oh, I know what you like..." He moved toward her.

Abby stepped back once more. She was running out of room. "Don't."

"You don't wanna play?" Brady asked, his voice dripping with a bit of Southern hospitality, if it hadn't have been tinged with sarcasm to boot.

Abby shook her head.

He stepped toward her once more.

Abby put her finger up. "I mean it, Brady. You better leave."

"I drove so far, though. All the way from Tennessee. I thought you'd be there, but you weren't. I did have a nice talk with your folks, though. They told me to leave you alone, too," he answered matter-of-fact.

"My Daddy should've shot you," Abby whispered.

Brady smiled, slow and wicked. "You know you don't mean that, now."

"I do."

"You would have your ol' man kill me?" Brady asked, innocently, stepping forward again. "I thought you loved me, Abby."

Abby hesitated. "I don't love you anymore, Brady. I've moved on. I think you aught to, too."

Brady laughed. "I did 5 years, Abby. I did 5 years for a crime I didn't commit. Just because they couldn't find the real killers. I think you owe me more than that."

Abby's eyes flashed. "I don't owe you damn thing! And you could have told the police who did it when they asked you. You could have told them who killed Jescyka."

"And what would have happened to me then? Hm? Would they have just let me go? Are you fuckin' kiddin' me? I would have been put through the ringer by the cops and then... Killed by the men who offed your sister," he told her.

"All I wanted was the truth. You treated me like I was nothing more than a good roll in the hay. How do you think that made me feel?" Abby demanded.

There were only inches between the two of them now. She could feel the tension as it rose between them. She didn't like where this was going. She feared that she might not be able to stop it. He had a power over her that she had never been able to shake free from. Sure, he was heartless and knew exactly who had murdered her sister, but Brady had been someone special to Abby once in her life. And now--Seeing him, after all the years they had spent apart, just brought back all of the memories she had been trying to forget.

Brady tilted his head to the side. "I loved you. That's why I didn't tell you who was after me."

"Yeah. And look what it got me. I lost you to the prison system. I lost my sister in cold-blood. I lost my father because he couldn't handle being on the police force anymore, knowing that Jescy's killer was out there somewhere and there was nothing he could do about it. Look at what your love got me!" Abby shouted.

Brady chuckled under his breath as he reach up and wiped his mouth. "You came and saw me when you were 23, remember that?"

Abby nodded.

"You told me that you would never forget me. Remember?"

"I haven't."

"Why not?" he stared into her eyes. "Because you still love me?"

"I promised myself I'd never forget you because of what you did to me. You taught me that love is only a four-letter word," she answered.

His face fell. "You miss me."

Abby shook her head. "I don't miss you. I sure as hell, don't want you, Brady. I don't want you now. Never again."

"You don't mean any of that, Abby. You're just confused, is all. I know you. I've been inside you. What we shared--It was good--wasn't it?" he spoke as he stepped toward her, closing the gap a bit more than she cared for.

There was no where for Abby to go. If she ran, he'd just follow her. She was trapped. She felt him as he brushed his fingertips up her arm. She could see his face; he looked older than he should have. Prison would do that to ya. It aged you carelessly. But his whole face wasn't clear beneath the baseball cap he wore. She smelled alcohol on his breath. Very distinct. Brady Hooper could be dangerous when he was drunk. She glanced around the living room for her gun. Damn, it was in her bag, which was in her bedroom. She'd never be able to get to it in time.

"Go away..." she whispered.

"I can't..." he whispered back.

Abby watched as he leaned over to her. He brushed his lips against her neck. She felt chills run down her spine, but she wasn't sure if they were from excitement or fear, she hoped they were from fear. His breath was warm against her skin--almost inviting, if she closed her eyes and remembered the way he used to be. She opened her eyes, remembering that this man was not the same man she had loved so long ago. Abby tried to move away, but he held her in place, pushing her back against the wall. She felt him push his weight into her. She felt something else brush against her leg. Abby was only wearing a thin t-shirt with grey shorts she had cut from a pair of old sweat pants.

"I've dreamed about you for so long, Abby. I missed you so badly. Every night I was in prison, I dreamed about you. And when I got out, I dreamed about you. I couldn't take it anymore. The dreamin' just wasn't enough. I had to come here. I had to find you," Brady whispered close to her ear. He nibbled at it as he spoke.

Abby didn't answer; she tried to move away from his mouth.

"What are you doin' here?" he continued. "Why ain't you in Tennessee with your folks? Why are you stayin' here where the worst thing in your life happened? Huh?"

"I have a job to do. I protect people from monsters like you," she answered.

He moved back a little from her, his eyes flashing. He studied her for a moment, then he grinned like a small child who knew a secret. His teeth were tinted yellow, probably from years of smoking. She tried to look away, but he tipped her chin up to him.

"I'm not a monster, Abby," he told her, his eyes looking sincere underneath the bill of his cap.

Abby snickered. "Really?"

Brady nodded.

"Yeah." She chuckled underneath her breath. "Looks like old habits die hard."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, confused.

"You still lie."

"You still talk too much..." he countered, his voice cold.

"I'm a Profiler. It's part of the job description."

"What do you profile?"

"Killers."

"Found your sister's yet?" Brady asked, leaning down next to her face, still holding her chin.

Abby pushed her head back against the wall with a dry laugh, she was becoming annoyed. "You're a bastard for talking about her like that."

"I have a father, Abby. I don't appreciate you talkin' about me in that way."

"Your father wanted you to confess. What does that say about you?" Abby smiled. She knew what pushed his buttons. Talking about his father would surely do the trick to piss him off.

He pushed her hard against the wall, then pushed his knee between her legs. She gasped feeling his knee as it pushed into her middle, harder than she'd care for. "You're a bitch, Abby. You know that?"

"Stop, Brady. Please..." Abby whispered.

"I did what I thought was right when it came to your sister." He pushed his knee in harder. Rolling it against her, applying pressure as he did so, parting her legs a bit wider. "I tried to help your family as best as I could, but I couldn't give them the names. Do you understand? Those men were after me and I had to do what I did in order to survive."

Abby groaned beneath his grip, tears spilling from her eyes from the pain he was inflicting on her down below.

He looked down. "You used to enjoy this."

Abby spit on him. "You killed her!"

"No. That's where you're wrong, Abby. I didn't kill Jescyka. You should have been home that night. They were looking for you, after all. If you'd been there, instead of Jescyka, then, you'd be the one six foot under," he corrected, ignoring the fact that she had just spit in his face.

Abby sobbed, choking it off before it got out control. She would not succumb to his abuse and let him know that she was in pain. She would survive. He was a criminal. Criminals were what she knew best.

"You still haven't come to grips with that?" he asked, sounding shocked.

Abby didn't answer.

"Oh. I'm sorry. Is this why you have a sick fascination with death?" Brady pushed her against the wall once more. It hurt like hell, hitting the back of her head when he did it, but Abby gritted her teeth and took it. "You always did have a sick imagination..."

"I'm not fascinated by it. I solve crimes."

"Sure you do. Tell yourself whatever you need to in order to sleep at night, Sweet-heart. I know you better than that, you fancy it. You thrive off it." He brushed his fingertips down her chest as he spoke. "I bet you enjoy this, too."

"I--"

"What?" Brady leaned over toward her once more, loosening his grip for the first time since he'd started.

"I don't like this."

"Sure you do, Baby. You always liked it rough. I remember. I was there with you."

"I was stupid then."

"You were fun..."

"You were a bad influence," Abby whispered.

"What do you want?" Brady asked, slowly.

"I want you to leave now."

"I can't leave. The party's just started."

"I'm going to call Horatio, if you don't leave."

"Caine? Really? How is that old fool?" Brady laughed.

"Don't talk about Horatio like that." Abby stared at him for a moment. Pleading in her eyes.

Brady watched her for a little while longer, enjoying the hold he had over her, then he let go of her, moving his knee from between her legs as he did so. He moved back. Abby let out a sigh of relief as she tried to catch her breath, her middle still sore from where his knee had been. She felt loose there, and she didn't like that feeling at all.

"Please leave," she whispered after a moment.

Brady glanced down at the coffee table. He looked up at Abby. "You goin' somewhere?"

Abby's mind raced. "No."

"You're lyin'."

"I'm not."

"You are. You touch your eye brow when you lie."

Abby moved her hand down from her eye brow. How could he have possibly remembered something like that? Something so trivial.

"I'm just--I'm thinkin' about there, is all."

"Really?" Brady smiled at her. "It's been so long since we've seen each other--what 5 years? We need to spend some time together. Catch up. You can't go to New York."

"You and me, we're not catchin' up."

"Can't I spend the night? I don't have anywhere to go or any money to rent a room with. Couldn't you give me that much?"

"No. I will not let you stay here."

"I need you. I miss you."

"I hate you."

"I still love you, Abby. Don't you see? I want to make love to you."

"You need help, Brady. You're sick. You don't deserve to be with anyone after what you did to my sister."

Brady sighed heavily. "I told you, I didn't kill your sister."

"You same as pulled the trigger when you wouldn't give up the names of the two men who were looking for you. You should have been with them. I bet you would have had a grand ol' time."

"I liked your sister, Abby."

Abby scoffed. "Of course you did."

"Why won't you forgive me?" Brady asked, slowly. Almost convincing, if it hadn't of been coming from him.

"Why are stalking me?" Abby demanded, her voice cold as ice.

"I'm not stalking you!"

"I'm not forgiving you!"

Brady stared at Abby for a moment longer, open mouthed.

"You enjoyed feeling me between your legs. I know you did."

Abby folded her arms over her chest. She glared at him, but said nothing. She didn't want him anywhere near her. He was lucky she hadn't hurt him. He was lucky was just letting him walk away.

Without another word, Brady turned and headed toward the door. He stepped through it; then, turned to her.

"You'll be sorry..." he warned.

Abby didn't answer. She stared at him, trying to convey as much hate as she possibly could through her eyes alone. He must have gotten the hint, because he left, slamming the door behind him.

After he was gone, Abby ran across the room, and locked her door back. She headed into her bedroom to get her gun and call Horatio. He told her that he was on his way and not to open the door until he got there. She hung up from her boss, feeling a little easier knowing he would keep his promise. But there was something else that hung over her, a new kind of fear. Brady Hooper knew where she lived. And she knew how determined Brady could get when he wanted something he could not have. He would stop at nothing to control her life once more.

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and the plot thickens, hmm??


	11. Chapter 10

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007 **

rating: **M**

summary: danny & lindsay get new perspective on the evidence. flack brings in erin fowler. and abby has a heart-to-heart with wolfe.

disclaimer: i do not own csi:ny or csi:miami. i do not own the characters within. they belong to zuiker & company over at cbs. i just have visitation rights. i do however, own abby walker.

**author's note:** thnx to all tht have been reading this story. i appreciate the positive feedback & constructive critizism :) all mistakes are mine. i take full responsibility. plz R/R. feedback is love!!

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**Chapter 10**

"Good news?" Lindsay asked as she and Danny stepped into the lab.

Adam had everything lay out on his table: four pairs of strappy silver colored shoes, the photograph that Danny had taken of the broken heel that he had seen when Erin had opened her bag, the shoes that Chloe Philips had been wearing, the branch that he had found to be the murder weapon, the glitter, and the shoe prints that Danny had taken from the scene.

Adam turned. "I tested the shoes."

"All of them are fake?" Danny asked, eying the evidence.

"Actually, only one is fake."

"Which one?" Lindsay asked.

"Erin Fowler's are not the real thing," Adam answered, handing over his report.

Lindsay read over it. "Why would she have a fake pair of shoes just like the other girls' shoes?" she asked, looking up.

"I'm not sure." Adam answered.

"Remember what the friends told us?" Danny asked.

Lindsay nodded. "You're right. They said that Alice didn't buy a pair of shoes like that for Erin."

"She went out and bought knock-offs to be like the other girls..." Danny finished.

"That's creepy," Adam commented.

Lindsay and Danny nodded in unison.

"But she's a pretty girl, with money, why would Erin Fowler have to buy herself knock-offs? Why not just go out and buy herself the shoes?" Lindsay asked, slowly.

"That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Why?" Danny wondered out loud.

"You wanna see the samples I determined the fake shoes from?" Adam asked suddenly.

"Sure," Lindsay answered.

Adam turned the microscope on for the CSI. She bent down and studied the samples. She noticed the difference in the textures of the first three compared to the last one which belonged to Erin Fowler. While Michelle, Kris, and Ashley's were rounder, like studded earrings, hers was thin and gritty, like sand.

"What does this mean?" Lindsay asked, moving aside to let Danny take a look.

Adam sighed. "This means that Ashley, Michelle, and Kris have real diamonds on their shoes."

"Lucky girls..." Lindsay smiled.

Adam nodded. "Yeah. I checked it several times to be for sure. They're the real thing. I even called the manufacture and they confirmed it, sending me the data on this specific brand of shoe." He handed over a piece of paper.

Lindsay studied it. She looked up, incrediously. "These shoes are worth 2500? I don't think every pair of shoes I own add up anywhere near 2500." She turned and smiled at Danny; he smiled back.

"Erin's are made to look like they're covered in diamond dust. Her shoes are from a cheap boutique that sells high end knock-offs in Tribecca. Very nice, actually."

Lindsay and Danny nodded.

"Take a look at this," Adam turned to his computer. He typed in the code and a video popped up. "I sent a photo of Erin to the three stores that sell these knock-offs. One of the store owners remembered her from a few weeks ago--She frequents the store, I gather. Anyway, believe it or not, but she came in and purchased a pair of silver strappy heels around Christmas time." He pushed another button and the enhanced part he had isolated came up. Sure enough, it was Erin Fowler at the front counter! "Also, take a look at this," Adam pulled up the photo of the shoes that Erin had purchased.

"They're the exact same shoes she gave to us," Lindsay told him.

Adam nodded, arms folded.

"She went to the store and purchased the shoes so she'd match the other girls. She wanted to belong..." Lindsay whispered.

"Except her's is glitter--not real diamonds," Danny confirmed.

"Yes."

"So, she's our mystery woman?" Danny continued.

Adam nodded. "The sample you gave me of the shoes that I found the glitter in was a size six. Erin's foot is size six. They're a match."

"She was there," Danny grinned. "Boom. We got her."

"The heel matches the shoes we found on Chloe Philips, too," Adam told the CSI.

"She took it?" Danny asked, even though he already knew the answer to his own question.

"Like a trophy?" Lindsay asked, shivering.

"That's just wrong..." Adam whispered.

Danny nodded. "I wasn't supposed to see it, though. She doesn't know I took the photo, either. We trapped her in her own mistake."

"She couldn't help herself. She had to take something to remind her of what had happened--Like she won something in a game," Lindsay told him.

Danny glanced over to Lindsay. "She told me she passed out around the same time Bucky did. She told me she was taking X and when she woke up, Alice was gone."

"How could she be in two places at once?" Lindsay asked.

Danny smiled. "She couldn't be. She never passed out. She lied to me. She was there and she saw who did it. That's why she had the heel. She was in on it."

"So... We bring her in?"

Danny bit his bottom lip. "I'll give Flack a call. Thanks, Man," he told Adam as he pulled out his cell phone.

"Thanks, Adam," Lindsay told the tech with a sweet smile as she followed Danny out the door.

...

Flack set across from Erin Fowler in the interrogation room.

The young woman set with her back straight, arms folded across her chest, and a smirk over her face. She was dressed, Danny observed, as he stood next to the door. He had been watching the two of them since she had arrived. She was being flirtatious with Don like she had been with Danny when they had first met, but without words this time. She could convey a lot through her eyes. And Flack was known to enjoy female attention. Would he succumb to her wyles?

"You know why you're here?" Flack asked, eying the girl across from him.

Erin glanced over at Danny, but said nothing.

Flack glanced over his shoulder, Danny stood with his hands in his pockets and a stern look over his handsome face. "Don't look at him," he warned, turning back to Erin.

"He gets me..." Erin answered.

Flack grinned. His blue eyes flashing. "I'm sure he does."

"He talked to me like I was somebody. You think I'm shit."

"I don't know you," Flack answered, seriously.

Erin shifted a little bit in her seat. "Can I smoke in here?"

Flack shook his head. "No."

Erin glanced over to Danny. He didn't budge.

"I want you to look at something, Miss Fowler," Flack told her as he opened the file that set between them. He pushed the photos over to her in a straight line.

The first one was of Chloe Philips, dead on a gurney. The second one was of the branch, the blood dried, but visible on one end of it. The third, fourth, fifth, and sixth photos were of each girls' shoes. The seventh photo was of Chloe Philips' shoes. The eighth photo was of the broken heel that matched perfectly to the pair of shoes found at the scene. The ninth photo was of the glitter imprint. The tenth photo was of the other footprint that they had found at the scene. Erin scanned the photographs, but said nothing.

"You recognize any of these?" Flack asked.

"That's Alice..." Erin answered, her voice barely a whisper.

"Anything else?"

"Those are the shoes she bought us for Christmas." The girl sniffled.

Flack started to say something, but stopped when he saw Danny out of the corner of his eye. The young CSI stepped over to the table, leaning down close to Erin. He stared her in the eyes, his jaw clenching as he did so.

"You didn't get those shoes for Christmas!" he told her, his voice like ice.

"I did. From Alice," Erin answered, her eye brows furrowing.

"Don't lie to me! I know you didn't get these from her. You bought them yourself. I have the video tape showing you there after Christmas, purchasing them," Danny told her.

Erin's lips pursed. A smile slowly formed at the corners of her mouth. "You're hot when you get pissed off."

"Don't fuck with me, Girl. I'm not playin' anymore!" Danny shouted at her.

Erin jumped back, her eyes glossy for the first time. Flack reach for Danny's arm; he jerked away.

"Danny. Don't," Flack shook his head at his friend, all seriousness playing over his face.

Flack stood up and guided Danny back to the wall. He stared down at him for a moment, wishing he could do more for him, but he knew there was nothing he could say or do when his adrenaline was pumping. Danny was angry. And when Danny became angry, there was just no getting through to him.

"She's lyin', Flack. We have the proof." Danny pushed his hands against his hips as he spoke.

"Let me talk to her, Danny. Maybe I can reason with her. Maybe I get her to give up the guy," Flack told him, his voice soft and comforting.

Danny nodded as he reach up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. What more could he do? Flack was right. He knew this. But he needed Erin to confess something--anything--before it was too late. Flack turned and walked back over to the table. Erin smiled up at him.

"Detective Messer has a temper, huh?" she asked.

Flack smiled down at her. "He's a lil bit of a loose cannon, yes. But me? I can be down-right scary."

"I don't judge."

"I get that from you," Flack grinned.

Erin tilted her head. "You ever had a threesome?"

Flack's face turned a little red. He glanced over at Danny who was pacing back and forth in the corner. Flack turned back to the young girl. He set back down, moving his tie aside as he did so.

"Can't say I have."

"They're fun. That's what me, Bucky, and Alice always did." Erin leaned over. "Why don't you and I experiment? Hey! Even invite Detective Messer over there to join us, if you like."

He glanced over his shoulder at Danny who was pacing quietly in the corner Flack had pushed him into. He turned back to the girl before him. She waited.

"You don't want me and Messer in your bed. Trust me. We snore," Flack answered.

"Who's gonna sleep?" Erin winked.

After a moment, Flack set back. He studied the girl across from him. She studied him.

"What'cha thinkin'?" she asked.

"Your friend is dead and you're trying to seduce me."

"Alice wouldn't mind."

"You're somethin' else, ya know that?" Flack told her.

Erin shrugged. "I get that a lot."

"Bet ya do." Flack glanced over his shoulder at Danny a second time. He had stopped pacing. He was staring at them, a cold expression over his face. Flack turned back to Erin.

"Tell ya what, I'm gonna give you a few minutes here alone, to look over the evidence. I expect something different from you when I return."

Flack stood up, pushing the chair back. Erin smiled up at him. Flack smiled back, feeling his stomach knot as he did so. This girl was good. She knew how to play the game and she knew how to play it to win. He turned and headed toward Danny. The two men exited the interrogation room, to watch the girl behind the two way glass.

Danny exhaled. "She's good."

"Yeah." Flack pushed his hand through his black hair.

"What can we do?" Danny continued, watching as Erin picked up one picture, then another to examine.

"You can't do any more of that shit you just did back there, got it, Danny?"

Danny shrugged. "I know. I just--She pissed me off, Don."

"A lot of perps piss me off, Danny, but I can't let it get to me. Ya know? I have to keep my cool in order to solve the crime. You just gotta remember that. You gotta keep your cool and solve this thing. If you don't do that, well, Mac will have cause to do something about the way you're handling things. You don't want Mac having to write you up, Man. Alright?" Flack asked.

Danny nodded. He knew Flack was right. Hell, Flack was always right. But Danny also knew how he was feeling about things. And this girl was lying through her teeth. He needed her to crack, but he needed to do it without giving Mac a reason to write him up and put him on desk duty for a couple weeks. Probation was hell. Danny didn't want to go there again.

"Alright." Danny scratched his eye brow. "Let's see if she's ready to talk."

When Flack and Danny entered the interrogation room, Erin looked up with a twinkle in her eyes. She took the photo of the broken heel and held it up for both men to see. Flack glanced at Danny, a confused look over his face. Danny shot him an apologetic look of his own.

"You took this at my house, Detective Messer," Erin told him.

Danny nodded. "I did."

"When you got your cell phone out to check for messages--right?"

"Mm-hm."

Flack glanced over at Danny, but he didn't offer him anything by way of explanation.

"Why didn't you just ask me to see it? I would have gladly handed it over to you."

"I didn't think you'd cooperate."

"That wasn't cool, Detective. How will I ever trust you again?" Erin pretended to be hurt.

Flack snickered. "That's good, Miss Fowler. I like how you're tryin' to make Danny the bad guy, here. What? You pissed that he took that picture?"

She didn't answer, keeping her eyes on Danny.

Flack glanced over at Danny. "You do that to her?"

Danny nodded, not moving his eyes from Erin.

Flack turned back to Erin. "He admits it. He did it. What do you want to do about it?"

Erin licked her lips. "I guess you think you know everything, right?"

"We know enough." Flack pulled his chair out and set down. Danny pulled another chair out and set down beside the Homicide Detective. He wasn't about to miss this.

"You wanna elaborate?" Erin asked.

Flack pushed his arms out on the table top and inter-locked his fingers. He narrowed his eyes on Erin. He gave her a curt smile. "We know that you were there on the bridge with Alice Langston."

"I told him that," she pointed to Danny.

Flack sighed. "Yeah. So, we know you were there. And we know you weren't passed out."

"I was."

"No, you weren't. We found glitter in a footprint." Flack reach over and pushed the photograph of the shoe imprint toward her. "See the glitter?"

"So?"

"So, this puts you there--at the crime scene. The imprint matches your shoes," Flack told her.

Erin shrugged. "What do you want from me?"

"The truth," Danny answered before Flack could. "We need to know who else was there with you."

Erin sighed heavily, putting her hands up in defeat. "Alright. Alright. I'll tell ya what you want to hear."

Flack turned to Danny and smiled. Danny grinned back.

"You're doin' the right thing here, Miss Fowler," Flack assured her as he reach in his pocket and pulled out a voice recorder. "Begin when you're ready."

...

Horatio stepped into the living room where Abby set.

He put his gun back in his holster and stooped down next to her. He put his hand on hers and smiled, sympathetically. She turned to him; smiled. But he could tell she was still shaken by the encounter.

"Are you OK?" he whispered.

Abby nodded.

"Every thing's secure here," he continued, his voice soothing.

Abby nodded again, wiping her nose with a tissue.

"But if you like, I can get you a room."

Abby shook her head. "I don't--" Her voice broke into a sob.

"You don't have to make a decision now, Abby," Calleigh assured her, reaching her hand out to touch her hair. She gave Horatio a concerned look.

Horatio sighed heavily. He hated Brady Hooper with every fiber of his being. He wanted to punish the bastard for barging in on Abby like he had. He had been out of her life for so long--and now--now he wanted to ruin everything she had worked so hard for.

"Did you know he was in town?" Delko suddenly asked, from the door way. He had been installing another lock on Abby's door.

Abby shook her head. "No."

"He just showed up?" came Wolfe's voice from the hallway. He had been with Horatio in the back, checking all the other windows and doors.

Abby nodded. "No one called me and told me he was even looking for me."

"Your parents didn't tell you?" Horatio asked, cocking an eye brow up.

"He talked to them, but God knows when that was. The last I heard, he was in Virginia. I guess he thought I was still at Quantico. That was where I was the last time we talked."

"It's been five years since you talked to him..." Horatio said, more to himself.

"Is there anything we can do about this?" Wolfe asked.

"Abby can file a complaint. Get a restraining order for him. But that's about it, since he didn't actually rape her," Calleigh answered.

"He assaulted her, Calleigh! We have his prints from all over the apartment here. We have his DNA--All.Over.Her," Wolfe stepped forward, his eyes flashing.

Horatio put his hand up to the young CSI. Wolfe stepped back.

"We can't go vigilante here, Ryan. We have to do this by the book," he told him slowly.

"H, it's Abby..."

"I know. I want the son of a bitch, too. But there is protocol. And if we don't go by the book, IAB will be all over this. They'll think we're being wreckless because it's one of our own," Horatio explained.

"What do we do?" Delko asked.

"We look at the evidence. We get a report filed. Abby gets a restraining order. We look for Mr. Hooper."

"I'll call Frank," Calleigh offered reaching into her pocket and pulling out her cell phone. She stood up as she dialed the number, heading toward the front door.

Horatio turned back to Abby. "You need to go to the hospital."

"No."

"I think you need to."

"I'll just go see Alexx," Abby told him.

Horatio sighed, hand on his hip. She knew he wasn't pleased with her stubbornness.

"You don't trust Alexx's judgement?"

Horatio smiled. "I trust her completely. But she's used to dealing with dead people. I want you to go someplace where you can get medication. I think you need something to calm you down. Will you do it to ease my mind, at least?"

Abby sighed. "Will you go with me?"

Horatio smiled both from relief and sympathy. "I can't."

"I'll go with you," Wolfe offered.

"Thanks, Ryan," Abby smiled up at him.

He nodded, proud that she accepted his assistance.

"Alright. That's settled. Mister Wolfe will go to the hospital with you."

Abby nodded as she climbed to her feet. Calleigh entered the apartment just then. She snapped her phone shut with a smile.

"Frank will meet ya'll at the hospital."

Abby climbed into the passenger side of the Hummer; she buckled herself in. Wolfe started the vehicle. Before he pulled out of the parking lot, he turned to Abby. His eyes were glossed over.

"I want to tell you something, Abby."

"What?"

"When I got the page that something had happened to you--I thought--I thought I'd lost you," he whispered.

Abby smiled at him. Her nose was red, her eyes were soaked with tear stains, and her lips were swollen, but she still managed to smile at him through the pain. She reach over and brushed her hand over his cheek. He closed his eyes, savoring the feelng of her skin against his skin.

"I'm ok."

"I couldn't deal with something bad happening to you, Abby."

Abby tilted her head to the side. He was like a child. Ryan Wolfe was a bundle of emotions and vulnerability, and he had come to terms with that long ago, but he hated that it showed on his face so easy. He didn't like that people could see how he was truly feeling from the inside out.

"Nothing bad will happen to me. Brady won't hurt me. Horatio won't let him."

"What about when you leave for New York?" Wolfe asked, lifting his eyes to her.

Abby smiled. "In New York I'll have--"

"Danny..."

Abby didn't answer. She knew the truth about her and Wolfe, their relationship. They were just friends, actually they were the best of friends. She liked him, sure, but she'd never wanted their relationship to be anything more than great friends and she hoped he could understand that she wanted to remain friends because she didn't want to ruin anything between the two of them--what they shared was special and honest. Why taint it with the physical stuff?

Wolfe turned back to the wheel. He pulled out onto the main road without another word.

"Are you mad at me?" Abby asked, slowly.

Wolfe shook his head. "I'm not mad."

"You're not pleased, though. Are you?"

Wolfe shook his head. "You and I are friends, Abby."

"Yeah. We'll always be friends, Ryan. Best friends," she reach over and squeezed his hand which was resting on the console.

Wolfe smiled, slowly. "You won't forget me when you're in New York with him?"

Abby laughed under her breath. "Is this what you're worried about? It's just New York, I'm not gonna forget any of you guys."

Wolfe bat his eyes. He kept them on the road; jaw clinched tight.

"You know how special you and the team are to me." Abby continued. "This is my home. "

"He's going to hurt you, Abby."

"Brady hurt me, Ryan. Danny would never hurt me like that and you know it."

"Maybe not like Brady. But he'll hurt you..."

"If anything bad happens to me--_anything_--I'll call one of you guys," Abby promised.

After a moment of silence, Wolfe glanced over at her. "Are you OK?"

"I'm OK." Abby smiled slowly, feeling herself relax for the first time since Brady Hooper had left her apartment.

"You know I'll kill the bastard with my bare hands if he hurt you like that again, right?"

"I know," Abby grinned.

Wolfe grinned back at her, as he turned onto the free-way. The rest of the drive, they were silent, but it was an easy kind of silence. The kind of silence only true friends can share.


	12. Chapter 11

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

summary: Danny and Flack interrogate a new suspect. Abby makes plans to come to New York City.

disclaimer: i do not own CSI:NY, CSI:Miami, or the characters within. i do, however, own Abby Walker.

**author's note:** i apologize for this chapter taking so long. i wasn't plzd with the interrogation & was planning to re-work it, then publish it. i got distracted over the weekend & didn't get a chance to work on it. then, we had a death in the family so i am lucky i even got the chapter up anyway. thank ya'll for being patient & not griping at me for being so slow :) i promise the story will be complete soon. very soon. i've only 1 more chapter to go.

**author's note pt2:** as always, plz R/R. feedback is love!! and all mistakes are mine. i take total responsibility for em.

* * *

**Chapter 11**

Frank Tripp moved about the small Emergency Room, nervously.

Abby was seated on a small bed. Next to her was Ryan Wolfe, on a rolling stool, holding her hand. Frank was pacing at the door. He hated Emergency Rooms. They brought back some real bad memories for the Detective.

"Alright. Tell me again what happened, Abby."

Abby sighed. "Brady showed up at my apartment."

"Did you see what he was driving?"

Abby shook her head. "No."

"Do you have any idea where he was staying?" Frank continued.

"No. I don't know. He said he wanted to stay with me."

"He had to have said something, Abby."

Abby bit her bottom lip. She stared at Frank. Almost challenging him. He stared back, calling her bluff.

"Do you think I'm lying?"

Frank said nothing.

"Cos I'm not lying."

"I never said that, Abby. I just meant--"

"You know I'd tell you if I saw what he was driving, don't you? I'd give you the description so you could run an APB. I'm not protecting him, if that's what ya think." Abby felt her anger rising by the second.

"I never said you were protecting him. I just meant--"

"Well, I don't know anything else." Abby whispered.

Frank sighed. "Then, I have no way of tracking him down."

"Can't you check around...?" Wolfe asked.

"Like, where?"

"I don't know. Bars or Soup Kitchens."

Frank gave Wolfe an annoyed look. "I have nothing to go on, here. Abby saw nothing. She probably couldn't give a precise description either."

Abby shook her head. "He looked the same. A lil older. But for the most part, the same. I can speak with a sketch artist if you'd like."

"That can be arranged." Frank gave Abby a side ways smile. "You know I have to treat you like every other person in an investigation. I know how Brady makes you feel, I just thought you might be protecting him cos of ya'lls history. Victims do that sometimes."

Abby nodded.

"Well, she's not like other victims," Wolfe reminded him, squeezing Abby's hand as he spoke.

"Also, I'll do what Wolfe suggested. I'll have some uniforms check around the local area for him. He might be at some of his old haunts."

"I appreciate it, Frank."

Before Frank could answer, the door opened and a nurse walked in.

"Miss Walker. You're free to go. All I need is for you to sign these release forms."

Abby took the forms and began signing her name, relieved that this nightmare was almost over.

...

Graham Denton set at the small table, Detective Flack and Danny across from him.

He looked like your typical drug-dealer. He was a young man, probably no more than 25 years old, but his appearance was horribly unkempt. He was greasy, wild-eyed, and fidgety. He kept scanning the room, eying the door and the double sided mirror. He kept moving about in his seat, a nervous twitch. His blue eyes were clouded over from dope and very wild. They never actually looked you in the eye, when he looked at you.

"Graham, you have quite the rap-sheet," Flack smiled at him.

Graham pushed his hand through his greasy sandy colored hair. A curl had fallen over into his eyes.

"You wanna tell me a little about your priors, Graham?" Flack continued, never missing a beat.

Graham glanced over at Danny, his eyes not quite following his head as he did so. Danny offered him nothing. He only watched him, determined to nail his ass. Graham turned back to Flack. He offered him nothing, as well, but it looked as if he was the one to talk to.

"I was framed for most of those," he answered.

Flack grinned, turning to Danny. "Ya heard that one before, Dan?"

"It's classic," Danny answered.

"Tell me about the coke charge, Graham. You got framed on that one?"

Graham nodded. "It was my roommate."

"And you just happened to be there when the cops arrived--what? Baking brownies?" Flack asked, glancing at Danny with a snicker.

"I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, I guess. I didn't sell an ounce of that shit. I was on parole."

Flack set back. "Oh, that's right. You did a stint up in Rikers What for?"

"You seem to know everything about me, Detective. Why don't you tell me?"

Flack tilted his head. "Attempted rape, I believe."

Graham licked his lips. "She lied."

"Oh, she did? Well, the police report said she had been beaten pretty bad. The rape wouldn't have been nothin' compared to her broken ribs and busted up face. She looked like something out of a zombie movie, Denton. Why did ya do that to her?" Flack asked.

"I didn't touch her. She was a whore and she probably got into a scuffle with a John."

"Oh, a John did that shit to her? Hm? A John fucked her up and you had nothing to do with it, yet you went to Rikers for it. Why? If I didn't touch a woman, I wouldn't go to prison for it."

Graham set back with a sigh. "What do you want from me, Detective?"

Flack's blue eyes lit up. "What do I want?"

Graham nodded.

"I want you to rot in hell for what you did to Chloe Philips. That's what I want."

Graham's eyes fell. "Who?"

"The girl you left dead on the sidewalk, up above the Hudson. Did you forget?" Danny asked, calmer than Flack had expected.

"I don't know anything about that. I--"

"Save it, Denton!" Danny cut him off. He raised his finger at him as if that emphasized his point. "Erin flipped on you."

Graham's face softened for a moment. "Erin?"

Flack and Danny nodded.

"She told me--"

"What?" Danny asked. "What did Erin tell ya?"

"I'm not answerin' yo questions. I don't know no Erin." Graham shook his head, folding his arms across his chest as he spoke.

"We believe you do. You might as well tell us now what happened up there on that bridge, we already have Erin's statement," Flack answered.

"I don't believe that."

Flack pulled out a recorder. He pushed the play button:

_**Erin:** "I met Graham through my step-monster. He was her coke dealer. She's had the habit since she was a teenager. I dunno what my Daddy sees in her at all--once a Coke whore, always a Coke whore, I say."_

_**Flack:** "We don't need to hear about your step mother's habits. We're more interested in your friend, Miss Fowler._

_**Erin:** (a light laugh) "Oh. Well, I met Graham at a party my step-monster was hosting. It was for all her lil coke friends. Daddy was out on a business trip--again--and I was __home. I went down-stairs and everyone was stoned out of their minds. Step-monster was in the corner with some guy and Graham was supplying the demand from the kitchen. He was nasty! (a laugh) But I figured he could be a necessity if I befriended him."_

_**Flack:** "What do you mean?"_

_**Erin:** "I have to make friends, Detective. I have to have something they want. A lot of the high-end celebrities enjoy their blow. I knew that he would come in handy at some point in time."_

_**Danny:** "So, you befriended a Coke Dealer in order to score points and not be a wanna be?"_

_**Erin:** "Exactly. I needed an in. Graham was my in."_

_**Flack:** "You used him?"_

_**Erin:** "We use everybody, Detective. That's the way the world goes 'round."_

_**Flack:** "Please, continue with your story, Miss Fowler."_

_**Erin:** "I wanted to be friends with Chloe Philips. I kept Graham on the fringes, ya know, just in case, I needed him for some reason. I wasn't sure if Alice was into blow when we first met, and turns out, she wasn't. I got into her circle, learned everything about her. She liked me. I fell in love with her. I didn't mean to fall in love with her, but I did. Bucky got jealous. Typical boyfriend."_

_**Danny:** "What happened to Graham, while you were playing house?"_

_**Erin:** "I tried to get rid of him. I just wanted him to go away. But he wanted to get his supply out there, ya know? Make a sale, like I'd promised him when I first met Alice and her friends."_

_**Flack:** "But he wouldn't listen?"_

_**Erin:** "No." (pause) "Turns out the bastard was in love with me."_

_**Danny:** "Really?"_

_**Erin:** "Yeah. He thought because my step-monster was easy, that meant I was, too. I told him I was in love with Alice--I tried to get him to leave Alice and me alone, but he said he wasn't going to let her take me from him."_

_**Flack:** "What about Bucky?"_

_**Erin:** "Bucky liked out arrangement just fine. I mean, he got to have sex with both of us. Every boy's fantasy, right? And I didn't mind sharing myself with them both, or Alice with him. He made her happy and if the media finds out you're bi or lesbian, they blow it way out of proportion. It was better to keep a man around."_

_**Flack:** "Thought he was jealous?"_

_**Erin:** "He was, at first."_

_**Danny:** "He didn't try to keep you from Alice?"_

_**Erin:** "What do you mean?"_

_**Danny:** "I mean, you didn't have Alice all to yourself, did you?"_

_**Erin:** "I did."_

_**Flack:** "No. No, you didn't. You found out that Bucky had asked her to marry him, didn't you?"_

_**Erin:** (silence for a few minutes) "She loved me! Bucky was just for show!" _

_**Danny:** "No! I think you found out about the engagement and wanted to put a stop to it. If you couldn't have her, well, be damned if Bucky got her."_

_**Erin:** "I don't wanna talk about Bucky."_

_**Flack:** "Alright. If you don't wanna talk about Bucky--Tell us what happened up there on the bridge. Tell us about you and Graham."_

_**Erin:** (a loud sigh) "Alright. Graham was there, too. He followed us and waited. Bucky and I took some X. He passed out pretty quick in the evening. But Graham was only supposed to rough her up a bit. Ya know? Teach her a lesson."_

_**Flack:** "Things got out of hand?"_

_**Erin:** "Yeah. He raped her. I was afraid to stop him. He's pretty mean when he wants to be. Anyway, he beat her, too. I watched him do it... And I wanted to help her--honest, I did. But he--he would have killed me if I'd said anything to him."_

_**Danny:** "You watched a monster kill the woman you love? How could you?"_

_**Erin:** (crying) "I don't know! I just wanted her to leave Bucky! See that I was the only one who could ever love her!"_

_**Flack:** "No wonder she was going to leave you. You're heartless."_

_**Erin:** (still crying) "No! I paid Graham a thousand dollars to leave us alone. But, then, I found out about her leaving me for Bucky. I paid him another thousand to teach her a lesson. I never meant for him to kill her. I never meant for him to--"_

Flack turned the recorder off. He set back and stared at the man across from him. He had not spoken since Flack had started the tape.

"What have ya got to say now?" Danny asked.

"Was that really Erin?"

Danny and Flack nodded.

Graham sighed, heavily. "She's right. I wasn't supposed to kill her."

"But?"

"But she was the one standing in the way of me being with Erin. I love her. Haven't you ever loved someone?"

Flack glanced at Danny.

"Not enough to kill someone else," Danny answered somberly.

"She used me."

Flack stood up. "You're under arrest, Graham Denton. For the murder of Alice Langston."

As Danny watched Flack lead the perp over to the uniform who had been waiting next to the door, he took his glasses off and sighed, letting the relief flood through his body like a raging river. For the first time, in a very long time, he finally felt free.

"You alright, Danny?" Flack's voice cut into his thoughts.

Danny smiled up at him. "I'm good. I have a mom to call."

Danny stood up, reaching in his pocket for his cell phone. Flack started to exit the room, but stopped and turned to Danny.

"You wanna go out for drinks later?"

"Yeah." Danny started to dial Ms. Langston's number, but stopped. "We gotta take Adam with us."

Flack cocked an eye brow up in confusion.

Danny grinned. "I promised him."

Flack nodded. "Sure thing. Just let me handle this, OK?"

Danny nodded in agreement, then turned back to dialing Ms. Langston's number. He couldn't wait to tell her that he'd just picked up her daughter's murderer. This was going to be a good phone call. Things were going to be good from now on, Danny could feel it. Something good was about to happen to him. Little did he know just how true his feeling was going to turn out to be.

...

Mac Taylor answered the phone on the third ring.

He pushed the receiver up to his ear. "Taylor."

"Detective Taylor? This is Abby Walker from Miami-Dade," came a soft southern drawl from the other end of the telephone.

Mac smiled. "Oh, yes. I've been meaning to call you."

"I know."

"Did you get my message?" Mac asked, reaching for the file that Horatio had sent to him about Abby Walker.

"Yes."

"I think you'd be an asset to our team, Ms. Walker. I hope you consider coming up here."

"That's what I wanted to speak with you about."

"Oh?" Mac felt an uneasy feeling creep into the pit of his stomach. He hoped she wasn't turning him down on his offer. "Please. Continue."

Abby was silent for a moment. Mac waited.

"I wanted to ask you if it would be possible if I could move my arrival date to next week."

Mac was silent for a moment. He moved his chair around so that his back was to the main lobby. "Any particular reason?" He couldn't help, but smile.

"It's personal."

"You can tell me, if you like."

"I don't want to burden you, Detective Taylor."

"Mac. Please."

Abby paused. "I don't want to burden you, Sir."

Mac smiled at her persistence. "I understand. But I will be your boss soon. And... I need to know that you trust me completely."

Abby sighed. "Horatio knows."

"Well, shouldn't I?" Mac chuckled.

Abby bit her bottom lip. She wanted to be able to trust Mac Taylor like she did Horatio Caine, but she didn't want to breath a word of her situation out loud, because that would make it real. She decided to take a risk and tell him the truth.

"Ms. Walker?"

"Abby. Please."

"Are you OK, Abby?" Mac took full advantage of calling her by her first name.

Abby smiled when she heard him speak her name. It was nice to feel at ease with him like she felt with Horatio. He was worthy of knowing her secret.

"I was attacked in my apartment."

"That's awful. Are you OK?" Mac asked, concern in his voice.

"Yes, Sir. I'm ok. Just a lil shaken up."

"I can only imagine," Mac answered. "Who did it?"

"An ex boyfriend of mine," Abby answered, slowly. "His name is Brady Hooper. He spent some time in Prison for drug trafficking."

"You had a boyfriend who was a drug trafficker?" Mac had a sudden flash come across his mind's eye of Danny and how he had been involved with the Tanglewood Boys. He wondered, at times, if he had made a mistake in hiring Danny Messer to be on the force and he didn't want to second guess himself about Abby Walker before she came to New York.

"Sir?" Came Abby's voice.

"I'm still here."

"Anyway. Horatio is worried about my safety. He wants me to stay at a Hotel, but I can't do that. It's not right to let him dictate my life, ya know?"

"I understand."

"I wouldn't mind coming to New York a few days earlier than planned, though. You know, so I could get my barrings? I could see what I'm getting into it. Would that be OK?" her voice sounded hopeful, but tinged with uncertainty.

Mac turned back to the file. He opened it and was greeted by a picture of a pretty girl, smiling back at him. She was what he needed in his department--A Criminal Profiler--she had even been at Quantico and she was good at what she did. He didn't want her past to cloud his judgement. Yet, he had done that with Danny and he had proven to be a liability more times than he'd like to remember.

Mac closed the file. "I think it'd be ok. When can you fly in?"

Abby almost squealed, but stopped herself from doing it. "Monday morning?"

Mac saw Danny coming toward his office. He didn't want to tell the CSI about Abby coming. Danny needed to focus.

"Mac?" Abby breathed.

Mac smiled, more to himself, when he heard her say his name. "Monday will be fine."

"Thank you. Thank you, Sir."

Mac kept smiling. He couldn't help it. "Is there anything else?"

"No, Sir. Nothing else. Thank you again."

"You're welcome." Mac spotted Danny at the door of his office. "Accommodations will be available for you as planned. Alright?"

"Ok." Abby held the phone for a moment longer.

"Anything else?" Came Mac's voice.

_Would you tell Danny hi for me? _Instead, she said: "Nothing else."

"Have a wonderful day, then."

"You, too. Bye, Mac."

"Bye now."

Mac hung the phone up just as Danny reach over and knocked on the door. He motioned for the younger man to enter as he closed Abby's file. He pushed his elbows over the file and smiled at Danny as if nothing was going on out of the ordinary.

Danny stopped with a smile. "You OK, Mac?"

Mac bit his bottom lip for a moment. "Peachy."

Danny frowned. "Peachy?"

Mac nodded.

Danny tilted his head to the side. "If you want me to leave--"

"No. You have something on your mind?"

Danny stepped forward and set down across from him. "I closed the Chloe Philips case."

"I heard."

"Yeah. It's been a hell of a week, though. I just keep feeling like I should have done more. Ya know?"

Mac nodded. "Sometimes all you can do is bring the perp to justice, Danny. You can't save them all."

Danny nodded. "I know. I just wish..."

"She died, Danny. And that's sad. But we have the ability to bring killers to justice. And when your perp goes to trial, the evidence will speak for itself. Alright? You did your best. Now, it's up to a jury," Mac answered.

Danny stood up with a nod. "Thanks, Mac."

"No problem, Danny. You headed out?"

Danny nodded. "Me and Flack are taking Adam out for a drink."

Mac smiled. "Adam's a cool guy."

"I know." Danny pushed the door open. He turned to Mac. "Wanna join?"

Mac shook his head. "I would. But I got a file to look over." He held up Abby's file.

Danny nodded. "See ya later, then, Mac."

"Later, Danny."

After Danny left his office, Mac opened the folder and read over the background information that Horatio had sent to him about Abby Walker. Sure, she had a past--didn't they all? And if Horatio Caine thought she was worth keeping around at Miami-Dade, then, who was he to judge her? He glanced up for a moment from his paperwork and saw Danny, Flack, and Adam headed across the main lobby--laughing amongst themselves. He pushed himself back in his chair, with a smile.

He had been told by several people that he was making a mistake in hiring Danny Messer all those years ago, but he had trusted his gut. Danny was great at all aspects of the job--the detective side, the CSI side, and the science parts that went along with both--but he was a loose cannon at times. He could let his temper cloud his judgement and that had always made Mac a bit uneasy when it came to Danny. He just hoped he didn't have to worry about the same things he had worried about from time to time with Danny, when it came to Abby. He didn't want to feel like he had made a mistake with her, like he had found himself feeling toward Danny when he had been investigated by IAB for mistakenly shooting a fellow police officer in the subway.

Mac decided, after reading over her background information, that Horatio knew who was the best. And he trusted Horatio's judgement like he trusted his own. And if Leutinent Caine of Miami-Dade said Abby Walker was the best, well, then, that meant that she was definitely the best woman for the job! Mistake or not, she was already planning to arrive in New York City on Monday morning. There was no turning back now...


	13. Chapter 12

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

author: **BambiBlake007**

rating: **M **cos ya kno...

pairings: something quite unexpected, i think ;)

summary: with the case over, Danny & Flack go out for drinks. meanwhile, Abby contemplates what her life will be like once she arrives in New York. and Ashley DuGray sees something she likes...

disclaimer: i do not own CSI:NY or CSI:Miami, or the characters within. they belong to Zuiker & Co. i do however, own Abby Walker & Ashley DuGray.

author's note: any mistakes, i take full responsibility for. they are totally mine :) plz R/R. feedback is love!!

author's note pt2: i really enjoyed writing this story. it being my 1st attempt at fanfiction, i think it turned out pretty good. also, thank you to all the loyal readers. ya'll made it easier for me to post every time i did. look forward to posting the 2nd part of Abby's journey...

* * *

**Chapter 12**

Flack tipped the last of his beer back and took a long swallow.

It was well near midnight and Adam had left half an hour earlier. It was now only Don Flack and Danny Messer seated at a table for four at Sullivan's. The pitcher was almost empty and neither of them were seeing very straight at the moment.

"Another round?" Flack asked, placing his glass down on the table.

Danny set, chair turned backwards, elbows on the table top and glasses removed. He shook his head. "I'm out."

Flack nodded, slowly. "I guess I aught to quit, too. But since when do I ever listen to myself?"

"That's reassuring..." Danny told his friend.

Flack chuckled. "Coffee?"

"Sounds good," Danny agreed.

Flack motioned for a waitress. A petite blond with a pretty smile approached. It was after shift-change, and she was new. He gave Danny a knowing look. Danny followed his lead.

"Could we get two coffees, Miss?"

"Sure." She jotted something down on her notepad. "Black?"

"I'll take it black," Danny answered.

She turned to Flack.

"Black... With sugar..."

She jotted the orders down and turned to head back to the counter. After she left, Flack grinned at Danny.

"She's into me."

"In your dreams, Don."

"Naw. I saw it. We had a connection just then."

"The alcohol is talkin', Man. She ain't interested."

"You're cute, Messer. Why don't you just leave the table so I can work my magic?" Flack asked.

Danny grinned at his best friend. "Are you serious?"

Flack pouted.

"Alright. Alright. I'll go to the bathroom and I'll leave ya two to it. Just don't touch my coffee."

Flack set back, folding his hands in his lap. "Thanks, Dan-o."

Danny got up and headed back to the restrooms. He meandered his way through the crowd. He entered the restroom and stepped over to the sink. No one was in the room with him and he could relax. He stared into the mirror for a moment--he looked tired. He wiped his eyes and shook himself from head-to-toe. He moved his neck, popped it, and rolled his shoulders to do the same. He had been thinking about Chloe Philips and her mom for most of the evening. That was the main reason as to why he had drank so much. Adam hadn't made it past two beers. Flack had joined Danny on his crusade, so he had drank more than usual. But now Danny regretted drinking so much. He was feeling the familiar tinge of a headache coming on and he knew that the morning light would bring one hell of a hang-over.

Danny turned the water on and let the tap run for a moment. He put his hands under the cool running water, savoring the feeling of something cold against his skin. He cupped some of the water in his palm and pulled it up to his face. He splashed the cool liquid against his face and groaned loudly. He let the water run for a minute or so more, head hung over the the sink, and eyes shut tight.

Five minutes passed. Ten. He figured Flack had scored with the pretty waitress and he decided to return to his table. No one had entered the restroom while he had been inside it. Danny liked it that way. He liked to be alone. Things were easier when he was alone. Simple. When Danny Messer was alone, he was in control.

He made his way out of the restroom and back into the main part of the bar. Flack was still sitting at their table--alone--but with a goofy grin over his face. Danny stepped up to him and took his seat once more. He waited. Flack only sipped at his coffee.

"I'm dyin' here. Did ya get her number or what?" he asked after a moment.

Flack gave him a smug look.

"Bastard..." Danny chuckled as he reach for his own coffee mug. He took a long sip of the hot coffee, letting it invade his mouth and throat with heat.

"Her name's Tessa. She's a Gemini."

"You did not ask her her sign, Don."

"No. She asked me mine."

Danny shook his head, more in amusement than anything else. He took another sip of his coffee, feeling sober by the minute. Part of him was grateful for the fogginess to be lifted from his body, but another part of him, hated that it was leaving him. Being numb from the world was better than having to feel anything real.

"You OK, Dan?" Flack suddenly asked.

Danny lifted his eyes to his friend. He looked serious. Danny bit his lip with a half-hearted smile. He shrugged as he ran his fingertip around the mug. He didn't want to talk about what he was feeling. Things were crazy between him and Lindsay. She still didn't trust him with her secrets. He hated that he hadn't been able to save Chloe Philips from that horrible creep. No girl deserved to die like she had. But this was life and Danny was used to disappointment.

"Montana still doesn't trust me."

Flack's blue eyes looked sincere for a moment. "She told me some stuff."

"I know."

"She told ya?"

"I asked."

"Oh." Flack took a sip of his coffee. "You pissed about that?"

Danny shrugged. "Naw. I think it's great that you and Montana can talk to each other."

Flack smiled. "She wants to talk to ya, Danny. Just give her time."

Danny exhaled. "Yeah. Give her time. I know the drill."

The two of them set in silence for a moment. Both sipping their coffees, respectively. About five minutes passed, both of them silent. There was just nothing more to say about Lindsay Monroe as far as the two men were concerned. She was a topic better left in silence.

Flack took the last sip of his coffee, placed the mug down on the table, then stood. He pulled his billfold out and placed a few bills on the table.

"You wanna grab a cab with me?" he asked as he placed his billfold back into his pocket.

Danny shook his head. "I think I'll walk."

"You sure?"

Danny nodded.

"'Aight. Hoops Saturday?"

"Sure." Danny reach up and shook Flack's hand to seal the deal.

Flack left Danny seated alone at the table in the middle of Sullivan's.

...

Ashley DuGray noticed the Detective from across the room.

She set at the small booth, wishing the boy across from her would just shut the hell up. He was a Chelsea University student and he was boring her to tears. She decided to make her get away.

When she had first spotted Detective Messer, he was with another man. Moments later, he had disappeared into the back. She had thought for sure he had left, but he had returned a few minutes later, set back down, drank some coffee, had small talk with the other man. They were obviously friends. Then, the tall drink of water had left. Detective Messer remained at the table, alone.

Ashley had watched him for so long now that she doubted she could muster the courage to talk to him. Nerve was one thing--courage was something entirely different. She wanted to talk to him and she had the nerve, because in all actuality he was just a guy, but the courage to do it was something that she was afraid she didn't possess. Until the jerk she was sitting with suggested the two of them go back to his dorm room. Check, please.

"What'cha say? A little you. A little me. A little s-e-x."

Ashley made a face at the boy. His name was Steven. He was cute, but not handsome by any means. He was on scholarship for basketball and had a nice body, but he was obsessed with his car and Ashley didn't want a guy who was preoccupied with a car. She needed a man who could focus his energies entirely on her and her needs. Sure, he was offering sex, but only sex. Ashley wanted more. She glanced over to the Detective. She wanted him.

"This has been fun, really. But I need to be going. I have an early audition." Ashley stood up.

Steven stood up as well. "I'll walk ya--"

"No thanks. I can catch a cab."

"You sure?"

Ashley nodded.

"I'll call ya. Maybe we can hook up next week..." He reach over and rubbed his hand against her arm.

Ashley jerked away. "We'll see..."

She turned and headed across the bar, pretending to leave. It was fairly crowded, so she knew that Steven wouldn't notice where she had went to. She walked up to the table, behind Danny. He didn't see her. He didn't hear her. He didn't sense her. She stared at his back for a moment: dirty blond hair--thin, red t-shirt, dark jeans, and a leather belt peeking through between them. She smiled to herself.

"Alone?"

Danny turned to look over his shoulder. It registered who she was in his mind and showed quite obviously over his handsome face. Ashley's smile broadened.

"Ashley DuGray. How are ya?" Danny asked, his words slurring a bit.

"I'm better... Thanks to you." Her voice was soft and Northern. A far cry from Lindsay Monroe.

"I just did my job," Danny answered.

Ashley nodded. She said nothing.

"You wanna sit?" Danny asked, his lids half closed as he stared up at her.

Ashley took his invitation and set down beside him. He smelled of cologne and beer. But it was a nice smell, not bad at all.

"You thirsty?" Danny asked.

"I don't drink."

"Riiiggghhht." Danny tipped his coffee mug back.

Ashley giggled as she pushed a piece of her coppery hair behind her ear. "Maybe a Coke."

"One Coke, then," Danny raised his arm to get the waiter's attention.

It was Tessa. She came to the table with a huge smile over her face. Obviously Flack had made her night. Danny gave her Ashley's order. Tessa jotted it down and headed back to the counter.

"I wanted to thank you for getting the guy who..."

Danny waved his hand. "No problem."

Ashley took that as a sign that he didn't want to talk about the case. All the better. She didn't feel much for talking about it herself. She stared down at the table top for a moment in silence.

"Wild night?"

Danny glanced about the table and took note of the beer that was there. "Not really."

"Drunk much?" Ashley continued, ignoring his modesty.

Danny chuckled under his breath. He glanced over at her. "Maybe just a little."

Ashley smiled back. Tessa set the Coke down before her, which stopped her from saying anything further. They both thanked the waitress, then watched as she went to her next customer.

"Enjoy that." Danny told her. "It's costin' me a dollar seventy-five."

Ashley grinned as she took a sip of her drink. "I'll savor every second of it. Promise."

...

Abby stared at the number in her hand for a moment.

She wanted to call him. She wanted to tell him that she was coming to New York. Let him know that it wouldn't be much longer until they got to see one another. But fear kept her from doing anything about it. She just couldn't bring herself to dial his number.

She was in a Hotel room--not because she wanted to be there, but because Horatio had made her stay there. The room was the size of her living room and she liked the view. But home was someplace else.

Abby turned from the phone and set back against the headboard. She held the small slip of paper the palm of her hand, reading the numbers over and over inside her head. She sighed. Just a few buttons needed to be pushed and the ringing would begin. Despite her fears, she decided to do it.

She reach over and took the phone up in her hand. She pushed the buttons nimbly, like a pro. She waited. One ring. Two rings. Three rings. Click:

_A chuckle. "How ya doin'? Danny Messer. Can't come to the phone right now, but if you leave a message, call ya back. Later."_

Beep!

Abby held the phone--breathing into the receiver. She tried to speak, but nothing would come. She pushed the receiver down and lay her head back against the headboard with a sigh. She wanted to sleep and forget about everything. But she knew that sleep was still hours away.

...

Danny pushed Ashley against the wall.

He kissed her feverishly, wanting to ravish her right there in the hallway. But he knew that he had to maintain himself, and get her into his apartment. He pulled away and stepped over to his door. Ashley hung onto him from behind, kissing his neck as he unlocked the door.

Once inside the apartment, they resumed their dance. They kissed each other, hungrily. It was dark in the apartment and they were stumbling over everything in their path, but neither of them cared.

The answering machine clicked on. Danny's voice echoed through the main room, but he ignored it. Ashley wrestled away from his grasp.

"You think you aught to--"

Danny cut her off with a kiss. "It isn't work. They call me on my cell."

Ashley returned his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. She moved her lips over his cheek and onto his ear. She tugged at the lobe, nibbling. She leaned up and whispered in his ear something dirty. Danny chuckled as she spoke. He liked it when a girl talked dirty to him.

Danny held her close to his body, running his fingers over her silky smooth skin. She was twenty-one, sure, and she had been a key player in a murder investigation, but there was a definite attraction there. She had liked him from the first moment she had lay eyes on him and after talking to her for almost an hour at the bar, he had found himself liking her back. What was one night? He needed to have fun. Besides, she wasn't looking for a relationship any more than he was. It would be fine as long as Mac didn't find out.

He was a grown man. He could sleep with whoever he wanted to sleep with. Montana did not dictate his life. He liked women. And they liked him. Montana didn't want to be with him. She had no say in this. She was not his girlfriend and he would not feel bad for what he was about to do with this pretty, funny, smart girl.

Ashley interrupted his thoughts by tugging at his belt. He stopped her. She stared up at him, a little confused.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No. Let's go into the bedroom. I like the bedroom."

"Oh," Ashley smiled wickedly at him. He grinned back, his blue eyes flashing.

Ashley leaned over and kissed Danny once more--long and passionate. She pulled back, then, she reach out and took his hand in hers. He gripped her hand back, letting her be in control. She tugged him across the room, down the hallway, into the bedroom.

They needed each other.

Ashley needed some fun.

Danny needed to lose control.

* * *

alright, ya'll. tht's the end of **Boulevard of Broken Dreams**...but not the end of Abby Walker's journey. thank you for all the reviews & positive feedback. also, thank you for just reading it )


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